Safe House
by luckyricochet
Summary: Nothing good can come from being taken by a strange man in the middle of the day. While Tessa's forced to be a maid to her captor, Will and Jem, along with the help of Jessamine and Gabriel, begin to crack the code that will lead to her freedom. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you to Herz von Silber, rockstar006, Lostliveso4eva, Electrical storm 1996, CitrineDiamondEyes, Pyreflyes Painter, and JayMar for either adding me to your author alert subscriptions, reviewing, or favoriting my last fanfiction! It really means a lot to know that you enjoyed it, especially as it was my first story. You all are part of the reason that I have a new story! I hope you like this one as much as my last one!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Tessa and Jessamine walked around London often, but Tessa knew it was not for pleasure. Jessamine wanted to be anywhere but the Institute, and she had to have a companion when she went into the city.

She had complained loudly and for some time that she could not leave the Institute, for she was not willing to walk to where the best stores were situated. Ever since Thomas died, Charlotte had trouble finding a replacement.

They at last stumbled upon Jack Matthews. He was a lean but muscular, with smooth blonde hair and blue eyes. Like Thomas, he possessed the Sight, which was the biggest reason Charlotte hired him. Well-mannered and kind, Tessa liked him almost instantly. He was twenty-one, but the age didn't bother her.

Jack was driving them into the city that day, for a casual walk through Hyde Park. Tessa couldn't help remembering the first time she and Jessamine had ventured there, but she pushed it out of her mind. Seeing the green trees and grass reminded her of Central Park, and she was struck with another pang of realization at how much she missed New York and wished to go home.

Nevertheless, Tessa faked a smile and linked arms with Jessamine.

"It's a lovely day, don't you think?" Jessamine said brightly, in a rare mood of jubilance. She held her lacy parasol in her free arm.

Thinking it would it would do well if she contradicted her, Tessa said yes, she thought so too.

"This sort of climate is unusual for London," Jessamine noted. "I have to take advantage of it. I'm not going to stay in that church when the weather is as agreeable as this." And she continued to walk quickly, dragging Tessa along with her, who could not come up with a response other than "Mm."

After a while, they reached a fork in the road. There was a long stone bench where the two paths joined together, and they sat down for a rest. Tessa basked in the sun, reveling in the sunlight. _It certainly has been warm_, she thought lazily.

Beside her, Jessamine gave a little jerk. Tessa looked at her in surprise. Jessamine tilted her head slightly and Tessa followed the direction.

There was a man sitting to the right of her. Tessa was so shocked she nearly fell of the bench. The man was dressed in all black, and his hat was tipped so low Tessa couldn't make out his face entirely. She altered her gaze pointedly and shifted herself closer to Jessamine.

The strange man scooted with her. Tessa was now sandwiched between the man and Jessamine. A layer of foreboding lay over her like a blanket and there was a tingling in her legs. She got up.

"Jessamine, I believe we should go back. Jack will wonder where we have been."

Jessamine opened her mouth, but the voice that Tessa heard was not a feminine one. It came from behind her, from the man.

"Jack? Jack Matthews?"

Tessa faced the man sharply. She said, curtly, "Excuse us, sir." Jessamine also stood up, and the two began a very brisk walk back the path they had came from. Tessa went one step forward and felt a catch on her bustle.

The man had taken hold of her dress and was pulling her back. "Sir, please let go of me," Tessa said.

"Is it Jack Matthews?"

"I don't see how that is any of your concern," Jessamine snapped coldly. "Come on, Tessa." She gripped Tessa's arm tightly.

"Is it Jack Matthews?"

Tessa exchanged a glance with Jessamine, who gave her a burning look. It was time to admit. "Yes," Tessa muttered, hoping the man wouldn't hear. Then she raised her voice. "Now, please let—" She never got another word out. The man sprang from his stone seat and threw his hands around Tessa's neck and pushed her against a tree.

Jessamine let out a shriek and rushed forward, brandishing her parasol. But with one fluid motion, the man pulled out a long knife. It was at least a foot long and two inches wide, looking more like a small sword than anything. Jessamine took it in and faltered.

The man still had Tessa pinned. It was very hard to breathe. With both of her hands, she attempted to pry her captor's hands off of her, but to no avail. The pressure increased painfully.

"Leave her alone!" Jessamine shouted.

"I need her," the man said. "Don't make a mistake, ma'am. Take your little umbrella and run along home. You needn't worry. I won't harm _you_, nor will I pursue you. As for your friend…" The man laughed. "I'm afraid I can't say the same for her."

"I'm not going without her."

The man's eyes narrowed. "So…that's how it's going to drop…It's only too bad for you…" He turned and whistled. It was a loud one, loud and long, and eerily pitched.

Three more men approached from the various pathways. The original shook his head toward Tessa. "Take care of this one," he said. "She's the one we need; take her back to the safe house."

"What's the safe house?" Tessa choked out.

"Your new home," one of the men said. He approached towards Tessa, who began to struggle, frantic.

"Get away!" she screamed. "Get away!"

"Dispose of the other one," the first man said, pointing at Jessamine, who was still clutching her parasol. "We have no use for her."

"No!" Jessamine rushed forward and raised her weapon. Even Tessa could tell that it was hopeless. Jessamine couldn't take on three opponents all at the same time. The three converged on her and surrounded her. Tessa watched fearfully, a deep feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something had to be done to spare Jessamine.

"Wait!" Tessa let out a throaty plea. Everything froze. "Take me, but don't touch her," Tessa said. "I'll go quietly, please."

The man looked down at her, a considering expression on his face. "It will only take time if we engage in another battle," the man said. "Leave her. We've already got what we need."

The others backed away. Jessamine lowered her parasol slowly, dumbfounded.

"Go," the man said. "Tell no one of what happened."

"But…" Jessamine was wavering.

"Go!" the man growled.

Jessamine looked at Tessa, dumbfounded. "Tessa, I can't just leave! You don't know what will happen, and I don't know either!"

The men were growing restless. One of them took a step towards Jessamine. "Go," he repeated.

Jessamine recognized defeat. With one last backward glance at Tessa, she began a slow procession down the walk. Tessa knew that any chance of immediate release was now futile, but hopefully Jessamine would be able to get word to Charlotte about what happened.

The man let go of her. "Don't even try to run," he snarled. "I'll break your neck if you do."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Wallin. If you repeat any information you hear in the next week, you can be assured that you'll never see daylight again." Two of Wallin's henchmen grabbed Tessa's arms and began to march further into the park.

"Where are we going?"

"To the safe house."

"What's going to happen there?"

"Nothing. At least, not right away."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if this is bad, it was harder to write this, I don't know why :/ Tell me what you think, and I'll continue. It's going to start out slow, but it'll pick up with later chapters, I promise. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, second chapter. This week was pretty stressful, I had a big presentation, but now that's over and I can relax and write a little bit. Something you should know about me, I'm horrible at editing, so please bear with me! **

**One other thing: Remember Wallin from Chapter 1? Well, reading it over, I really didn't like his name, and I realized I picked it on a spur of the moment action. As of now, he will be referred to as Crawford. I'm really sorry if I messed anything up! Thanks for reading this long author's note, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"Stay in here and be quiet," Crawford said. "I'll be back." He went away, leaving Tessa in the back of a dark carriage. She wondered whether or not Jessamine had made it back to the Institute. Most likely she had. They had been driving through London for nearly an half an hour.

She leaned back. The men had spoken in low voices the whole trip, too low for Tessa to eavesdrop on. The occasional, fervent glance back at her had picked up her interest a couple times, but when no one said a word to her, she gave up in trying to acquire any information.

There was one thing she knew for certain. Crawford knew who Jack was. It was probably assumable Crawford had been in contact with him at one point too. What possibly could they have discussed? Something that had to do with Tessa? She couldn't find anything other than the fact that Jack worked for the Institute that connected him to her, and that was hardly anything to make the newspaper headlines. Perhaps Crawford wasn't who she thought he was. Then again, someone who kidnapped ladies at the park usually didn't have any good intentions.

The carriage door swung open. Crawford reappeared. "You need to come out now." He stepped aside to make room for her, not bothering to help Tessa down, but she wasn't expecting that he would. She steadied herself and looked around.

They were atop a hill, so tall and high up that the Thames was only a gray strip cutting through the city. There was nothing else in the vicinity of the hill, save for a huge expanse of forest. In between two of the largest tress was a mansion. It was solid black, with a craggy roof and two thick chimneys piercing it on either end. There were many windows, all in neat columns and rows. An impressive oak set of double doors was in the front.

Without saying a word, Crawford strolled to the house. Picking up her heavy skirts, Tessa followed suit. The other men walked uncomfortably close to her.

Crawford opened the door and made his way in. When the last man was inside, the door shut with a snap. "This is the safe house," Crawford said, leading the way. His steps echoed on the tiled floor of the foyer.

_What a queer place,_ Tessa thought. There was hardly a stretch of wall that didn't have a mirror on it; Tessa could see herself being reflected through another reflection. It was all quite confusing.

Crawford was now going up a very large staircase, all wood and draped in a red velvet carpet. Tessa was on the first step when she realized that the other men had not followed her.

They went up another flight of stairs. Finally they came to a long hallway. Crawford went to the middle of it and opened one of the doors.

"This is your room," he said. Tessa peered in cautiously, expecting a dungeon.

She was half-right. No, it was not the traditional dungeon one read about in the novels, all stone and sleeping on a plank. But yes, all other aspects were there. No window, no blankets, no appeal to the room at all. It had a plain wood floor, the walls papered in a plain white. There was a table about one foot square next to the bed, with two shallow bowls on it. Tessa's heart sank.

"Get in, then," Crawford said, giving her a rough push.

"Put the dishes at the door," Crawford instructed her. "They'll be filled at breakfast and supper each day."

"What about dinner?" Tessa said.

"You don't get any," Crawford said harshly. "I've already got a lot of mouths to feed, and now you. If you know what's good for you, you won't complain. And you won't try to run away, either." He slammed the door.

Tessa stared after him. She wanted to scream, to run after him, to do something. Anything but stand there. Instead, she dragged herself to the bed and sat down on it. There was a pillow on it. Tessa took it in her hands and buried her face in it, feeling tears threatening to spill. Why couldn't she have a normal life? She only hoped that she would have a friend here in this horrible place.

* * *

_"When we truly realize that we are all alone is when we need other the most."_

_- Ronald Anthony_

* * *

She was wrong. There was no one, absolutely no one, in the safe house willing to talk or look at her, even if it was just a second.

She had learned the names of Crawford's assistants: Hansen, Monroe, and Bartlett. All three were big, burly, and nasty. They drank all the time, smelled, and wore the same thing each day.

Tessa seemed to be eating whatever was left over that meal Her first meal was cold soup, two pieces of bread crust, and a spoonful of corn. Tessa ate it and began to dread what the future would hold for her.

For the half day that she had been there, Tessa was already miserable. She had nothing to do. No one would come up to her room, and she wasn't allowed out either. Oh, how badly she wished she could be back at the Institute! She should have been in the library right now, not in a prison.

What would happen if she opened the door? Crawford had warned her not to do it. Tessa went to the door and put her ear to it. She could detect no sound from it. Tessa peeked under the crack to check for a shadow. There was none. Sitting down on the dusty floor, Tessa retraced the route she had taken to get to her room. What was it? Turn right, down the stairs, then turn…left? No, right again. Past the marble statue, left, and there it is! The first staircase! Straight down that, and then through the door!

Then once she got outside? That didn't matter; she just needed to run as fast as she could down the hill. Surely there would be little cluster of houses she could take refuge in.

Tessa listened again, and heard nothing. She put a trembling hand on the doorknob. With a flourish, she turned it, and like a bolt of lightning, sprinted down the hall.

Running pell-mell down the corridor, Tessa skidded at the first corner, regained her balance, and kept on her way. There was a wild burst of energy in her; where it came from, she knew not, but that didn't matter—

She reached the foyer staircase. The entry was deserted, not a soul in sight. Without a forethought, she went down the stairs, and—

Tessa slammed headfirst into the Monroe. She gasped, the air caught in her throat. _I couldn't do it, _she thought vaguely in the back of her numb brain. She tugged at her arm, but Monroe held fast.

Suddenly she felt a stinging in on her face. She looked up at Monroe, who stared stonily down at her. He had slapped her "You just made the worst choice of your life," he said. He bellowed, "Mr. Crawford!" It was so loud Tessa wanted to clamp her hands over her ears.

Crawford appeared in an instant. He made a clicking noise with his tongue. "You're a daft one, aren't you?" he sighed. "I told you what would happen if you tried to escape."

"You didn't tell me anything!" Tessa burst out. "No one has spoken to me ever since I got here, don't go acting like you're so high and mighty and you can do whatever you please! This place is just a prison, and for some stupid reason, you've decided to make me your prisoner! You're just horrid and cruel, and I hate you!"

Crawford went very still. To Tessa's curiosity, he didn't look remotely angry. Instead, he just looked more interested in her. He snapped his fingers. "Give her to me, Monroe. I'll see to it she gets what she deserves."

* * *

_"They can't hurt you unless you let them."_

_- John C. Maxwell_

* * *

William Herondale tapped the edge of his glass with a slender finger. It was nearing suppertime, and he was grateful. At least there would be something to look forward to that day. He let out a breath and ran a hand through his already tousled black hair.

Standing up, he finished his drink and sauntered into the dining room. Charlotte was there, setting the table. Will leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. She was very careful at the job, straightening every utensil until each was parallel to the other.

"That must be one hell of a job," he observed after a couple minutes, unsticking himself from the wall. "Wouldn't it be much better to just let everyone else get their own dishes?"

Charlotte spared him one glance before returning to the table. "Yes," she said, still examining the set up. "Although it wouldn't feel right to me."

Will pulled out one of the chairs and lowered himself into it. "Don't touch anything," Charlotte said.

"I won't, I won't…"

There was a tinkling as she touched the fork to the dish ever so slightly. "Are Jessie and Tessa back yet?" she said.

"Not that I know of," Will said. He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. There was a magnificent chandelier hanging in the center. Will would love nothing more dearly than to fly up to it and unscrew it. "They should be back soon, shouldn't they?"

"I would think so," Charlotte said. "They've been absent for hours."

Presently Agatha came in, rolling a cart that had a number of plates on it, each with a delicious meal on it. Charlotte went and began to place them on the table.

"Have you any cake tonight?" Will asked after Agatha.

"None tonight, Master Herondale," Agatha said. "You know Miss Lovelace asked me not to make any for a while. Claims she's becoming too overweight for all her dresses."

"A shame," Will said sadly.

Presently Agatha left to alert the others it was time to gather. Will looked out the window. The sun had almost gone down, the sky was a brilliant palette of orange and yellow. "Will, the lamps, please," Charlotte said.

Will sighed. "Oh, very _well_," he said. He took a lamp and proceeded to light the other ones, brightening the room

There was a slam. Will turned towards the exit. There was a sound of scuffling. Will went to the door, Charlotte hurrying after him.

Jessamine was standing there. She looked a little mussed, her hair slightly disheveled. "What'd you run into?" Will asked incredulously. He looked around her. He frowned. "Where's Tessa?"

"She's gone."

"Well, I see that," Will said sarcastically. "Where to?"

"I don't know," Jessamine said hopelessly.

Charlotte's eyebrows knit together anxiously. "What do you mean? Weren't you together?"

"Yes, we were," Jessamine said. "We were walking, and these men came up to us, and took her away. Don't give me that look!" she hissed at Will. "I didn't flee as soon as I saw them, she's the one who told me to go!"

"She's _gone_?"

"That's what I said."

"Well, that's just lovely. Remind me to ask you if someone requires a chaperone for a trip to London." Will's voice was heavy with derision.

"Be quiet," Jessamine said sourly. "'I'll be down soon. I have to go dress."

"Hold on." Will put a hand out, blocking her way. "Someone we know is missing, and you think it's top priority to _dress_?"

"Will's right," Charlotte said. "You stay here, Jessie. There are more important things to discuss."

"Discuss what?" Henry had bounded into the entryway. "Jessamine, you're back!"

"Yes, and without Tessa," Charlotte informed her husband. "Are Sophie and Jack coming? And what of Jem?"

"We're all here," Jem said, melting into the scene. Is something amiss?"

* * *

**A/N: Hope you guys liked it! I wasn't going to put Will and everyone back at the Institute until the next chapter, but then this one would have been kind of short without them. Anyway, you'll see some more of them, Tessa, and Crawford in the next update. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter Three, peoples! This one is nice and long, with a lot of important facts, so pay attention. **

**You might have noticed (if you've reread Chapter Two in the last couple days), I've been doing a lot of editing, particularly with the…time/scene skip…thing. I don't really know what to call it. Anyway, the one I had chosen originally didn't show up in FF, so I ditched that and played around with some other ideas. The permanent indicator for the skip is going to be a quote. It'll be in italics, centered, and has the lines above and below it, that way you don't mistake it to be dialogue from one of the characters in the stories. **

**I would recommend reading the quotes, not just skimming over them. Most of the time, they will relate to the story, in some capacity. They might give you a little hint as to what's going to happen next in the story, or it could just be a reflection on what just happened, like how a character could be feeling. This won't be the case all the time, with the foreshadowing/emotion thing, because I might not be able to find a quote I like that fits in the story. Most of the time, though, it will be. So far, all the quotes have to do with the story.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. Laurence Sterne owns The Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy, Gentlemen. **

* * *

After a hasty meal, everyone retreated to the library. Will took his normal seat, which was a large leather chair right by the ceiling-high window. There was a little desk next to it, where Will liked to put extra books or some sort of refreshment on when he read. It was also just a relaxing place to sit and ponder about whatever came to mind.

Will had entered a few minutes before the others. As he sat there, he admired the coloring of the room. The window sash was still pulled to the side. The last dying rays of the sun streamed in through the glass panes, illuminating one half of the room with orange, leaving the other half in a solitary darkness and shadows. One more reason Will loved the library as he did.

The door opened tentatively. Jem came in, with a light. His silver eyes reflected it brightly, making the irises of his eyes look yellow. When he noticed Will, he came up short. "Oh. I'm sorry for interrupting." Will knew that _Jem _knew he liked being in the library alone, and Will appreciated the fact that whenever Jem appeared unexpectedly, he always apologized for it. "I'll go if you'd like. Everyone else will still be a few minutes."

"It's fine," Will said. "You can stay. Sit down, James." He did, sitting next to him. _In Tessa's customary seat_, Will observed, half subconsciously. Through the corner of his eye, Will could see Jem give him a sideways look. Jem looked away to the book lying on the table. He picked it up and scanned the cover.

"Ah. Let's see if you've remembered this book." He rapped the surface with the back of his hand. Jem rifled through the leaves, hiding the title. He cleared his throat. "'Time wastes too fast: every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity life follows my pen.' Who wrote that?"

"Laurence Sterne," Will said. "From _Tristam Shandy_."

Jem looked impressed. "Will, I always knew you had a memory like no other, but how do you do it? If I recall, the last time you read this was three years ago when you were fourteen."

"I've read it several times," Will said. "What good is a book if you'll only read it once, never to pick it up again?" He held out his hand for the novel and Jem placed it in his palm. Will examined the cover. "A good thing you came in just now, Jem. I haven't perused this book for some time."

There was a gathering of noise outside the room. A flood of people walked in, bringing with them a collection of chatter, some angry, some concerned, some bored. Charlotte stopped when she saw the boys sitting there. Then she relaxed and let out a breath. "Will, Jem, good. Everyone, find a chair," she said, addressing the others.

"Everyone should know that Tessa's gone," Charlotte said. "Is there anybody who doesn't?" She looked around. No one said a word. "Jessamine, you were with her when it happened. You have the most knowledge. Do you know where they might be right now? Or anything about the people?"

Jessamine racked her brains. "The man that took her was called Crawford. He said—" She faltered. She pointed at Jack. "You! You have something to do with this, don't deny it, I know you do!"

Charlotte stood up. "Wait, Jessamine. What do you mean? Jack, do you know of this Crawford man?"

"I might," Jack said. "What did he look like?"

"I don't really know," Jessamine said. "He was wearing all black clothes. I never saw his face clearly; his hat always covered it up. I think he must have had dark hair."

"What do you say?" Charlotte said. "Does that sound familiar?"

"It's a very vague description…" Jack said carefully. "Crawford, his name was?" He rested his chin on his fist and thought as hard as he could. "There's…someone. I'm trying to remember who he was. This could take a bit."

"Charlotte, I know what I heard. Even if Jack doesn't know it, he _does_ know who Crawford is. Crawford said Jack's name, Jack Matthews, himself."

"Now, Jessamine," Henry said slowly. "Jack is a very common name, and Matthews is a very common surname. It could be someone else."

"Yes, but is it _likely_?"

"Jessamine!" Charlotte said. "We will find out if Jack knows anything in due time, and I'm sure if he remembers anything about this Crawford, he'll tell us."

"Of course," Jack said smoothly.

"Fine," Jessamine said, miffed. "There's something else you should know, though. It's rather important."

"Well, tell us already, then," Will said testily.

Jessamine threw Will an irritable look. "Tessa's being held at a place called the safe house. I don't think that's the name of the property, though, it must have another meaning."

"The safe house…" Jem said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's a bank of sorts. A building with lots of security, so whatever was inside would be difficult to obtain from anyone who didn't have a password, or a key. Something like that."

"That doesn't exactly aid our cause, does it?" Will said. "I hope it's not that." He looked over at Jack. It looked as though his brain was turning inside his head. "Jack? What do you know?"

"Will—" Jem began, but Will held up his hand, cutting off his friend off midsentence.

"I know that look," Will said. "You've got something do share, don't you?"

"Indeed I do," Jack said. "Will's correct, actually. I've heard of a safe house."

"What of it?" Charlotte demanded.

"I've been putting the clues together while we have been have been conversing, Charlotte. A man by the name of Crawford, going to a place called the safe house. I remember, now. It's all very simple, really. If this safe house is the safe house I know, it shouldn't be hard to infiltrate it. At least, there won't be a key we have to look for, or anything like that."

"Why?" Henry said.

"All you need to do to gain entrance is step on the floor mat in front of the door," Jack explained. "It's all coming back to me."

"Who is he?" Charlotte said urgently.

"Crawford was a student at my school, Conley Bridge. It was a boarding school, so we stayed there all year round, until the summer holidays came around. Crawford's first name is Alexander. Anyway, he's several years older than me; he was already a prefect when I was enrolled at Conley Bridge.

"The school was a normal one. Note this: a _normal _school. Not a school where Nephilim went. Students who went to Conley Bridge were mundanes."

"In the first year of attendance, each student gets a uniform. When I got mine, I noticed that on the bottom of everyone's left shoe, there was this." He held up his own shoe and showed the room. It was just a small _CB _at the heel."

Will looked disgusted. "You've kept and worn the same pair of shoes for all this time?"

"Well, no, Will," Jack said, putting it back on. "That's what is most curious. I wore that first shoe, for about a year, until I grew out of it. The school gave me a new one. It also had the initials on it. This continued. Usually I would need a new pair after year, and a fresh one would be given to me, with _CB_ on the bottom. Then I soon graduated. Let me tell you, those shoes that Conley Bridge provided were not the most luxurious. A bought my own pair of shoes when I had enough money. Strangely enough, there was _CB_ on the bottom, as if I was back in school.

"I was perplexed by this. I hadn't touched the shoe at all, and the mark was there. With every pair of shoes I buy, no matter what it is,_ CB_ is always somewhere written on it."

"What exactly does this have to do with the safe house?" Jem asked.

"I'm getting to it," Jack said patiently. "As Crawford advanced in the school, he developed this reputation to the other scholars, including me. He was a brilliant student; he aced every assessment a teacher threw at him, there wasn't a single class he wasn't gifted in. However, he had a rather…bipolar personality. While he excelled in the academia, he was hiding a lot more underneath.

"He bullied other students, particularly younger ones. I knew from first hand knowledge that he spent many a night in the pubs drinking and smoking. He was…especially resentful of the fact that he'd been sent to Conley Bridge. You see, Crawford's an orphan. He was brought up by his older sister. From what I know, she wasn't a nice lady, and they fought with each other constantly. This ongoing dispute with his sister was, in my mind, why he acted the way he did.

"This was all unbeknownst to the professors. They saw him a wonderful person. He would seem that. He never acted this way when school was in session.

"Crawford's a person who takes in every single little detail. There isn't anything he doesn't miss. In his second-to-last year, he made this group called the Dark Ring. There were only four members, counting me, excluding him. In the Ring, I learned a great deal about Crawford. He had been stealing from all around ever since he arrived at Conley Bridge, and stowing the things he stole away in a box he kept in his room.

"He'd been observing us, Crawford had been. He said that all of us had the same temperament as him. He said these two traits were essential in the reason he recruited us to be part of the Ring. We'd be able to trick whoever was after us with our cunning and charisma.

"Then one day, he brought the box to a meeting and opened it to us. Inside were a number of glass vials. Each one had a different colored liquid in it. They were ingredients for two types of potions, he told us, but he never told us what kind of potions he was going to brew.

"This intrigued me a great deal, let me tell you. As far as I knew, Crawford was a mundane. How would he know how to boil a potion? What made me even more confused is when Crawford informed us of what was in each of these little vials. Many of them were poisonous, to a mundane, at least. Well, potions are meant to be ingested, are they not? He'd most likely die the moment he swallowed, with so many deadly components. It made me think that maybe Crawford wasn't a normal human.

"As you would suspect, if one was caught possessing any of these toxic fluids, he'd be expelled on the spot. That couldn't happen to Crawford, being the star student and all. We, as the Dark Ring, were supposed to take this box to a place called the safe house, a place where no one would ever find it and he'd be able to conduct his—experiments, so to speak—in peace.

"Now to the part with the shoes. One meeting, he dipped the shoe into a pail of water, or what I thought was water. He told us the mat by the safe house was also doused in this water, and once the two objects met, the door would unlock for us. The reason it appears on any shoes we owned is so that even after we graduated, like right now, we'd still have access."

There was a pause. Jack stopped speaking, in order to let the others inform all the information they had just learned. "Then…Tessa's at this safe house?" Charlotte said.

"Did Crawford ever tell you where the safe house is?" Henry questioned. "He must have, or else you wouldn't be able to perform the work."

"Well…" Crawford hesitated. "He never did tell us straight out. He wasn't that sort of person. There were fifteen clues we needed to decipher in order to find the location. We were give one clue that would give us the location of the second clue, which would give us the location of the third, and so on. He told us if we didn't solve the puzzle by the end of that year, we would be ejected from the Ring."

"He could potentially lose all his members, then," Will scoffed.

"He _did _lose someone," Jack. "He lost me."

There was a noise of exclamation from Jessamine.

"Yes, Jessamine, I was the only one who failed to work the problem. I only got through half of them, so Crawford dismissed me."

"So we still have no leads…" Charlotte fretted.

"Not so! I'm not done yet," Jack said. "I was quite upset over the fact that I wasn't in the Ring, so I saved each scrap of paper that a clue was written on, to remind myself to work as hard as I could at something, to give it my fullest effort. And—I still have them."

"Well, if you couldn't figure out hints then, what makes you think that you could figure them out now?" Will asked skeptically. Charlotte made noise from deep in her throat.

However, Jack was unperturbed by Will's comment. "I'm older now, Will. I'm not as naïve. And you'll help, won't you? Everyone will, if it's to help Tessa."

Will nodded slighted, mutely. There was a general murmur of consent throughout the library.

"Shall we begin, then?" Charlotte suggested.

"Gladly," Jack said.

* * *

"_Mysteries are not necessarily miracles."_

_- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_

* * *

"Here." Crawford opened a door.

Tessa peered into the gloom. There was a short flight of steps that descended into the damp cell. She stepped down, almost slipping on the water. She clutched at the banister, but didn't make a sound and continued down with her head high. She wasn't about to let Crawford think that she was a helpless little girl with no courage.

Once on the landing, she turned sharply, facing Crawford. "Fine. What is this punishment you mean to make me suffer through?" She kept her voice even and level, her eyes glinting dangerously and never leaving Crawford's.

The man laughed. "Well well well! I like that, I do. You're certainly not one who scares easily. You don't find many women in the world who have the same attitude as you, I must tell you. It's a refreshing relief." Here, he halted. "Something just dawned on me. I know your Christian name, as your silly companion in the park said it…however…what is your surname?"

If Tessa had been in any other situation, she would have never told her last name to him. But due to the circumstances, she didn't care. What more could come of it? She was already hostage. "Gray."

"Tessa Gray…quite a pleasant name." Crawford laughed again. "Sit over there, if you're so eager to find what will happen next." He pointed to a straight-backed wooden chair. Tessa marched over to it and seated herself. Crawford stayed where he was, rummaging around with something in the darkness.

"To be honest, Miss Gray, it won't be as terrible as you're anticipating. In fact, it will be virtually painless. Just…ah…a slight moment of discomfort." He approached her, carrying a cup in his hand. It was clear, and from what Tessa could tell, was filled with plain water.

"Drink this." He offered the glass to her. Tessa took it, cautiously.

"What is it?"

"Its contents are not relevant," Crawford said silkily. "Come on now, drink it up!"

Tessa sniffed it. There was no odor she could detect. She put the rim to her mouth and opened her lips ever so slightly. Crawford was watching her. Tessa tipped the glass a few degrees and the liquid trickled into her throat. She finished it off and lowered the glass. She swallowed.

Immediately, there was a tightening in her chest and stomach. She coughed slightly, and with a shaking hand, put the glass on the floor. The pain sharpened, but not so much to make her cry aloud. She put a hand to her heart, pressing, as if to lessen the pain a little. Her insides were squeezed, tighter and tighter, and then—

It was like a balloon being slowly released of its air. The clenched feeling was relaxed, and Tessa took a deep breath. She looked up Crawford, thunderstruck by what just happened. "What was _that_?" she whispered.

"Just a little experiment, Miss Gray," Crawford said. "I'm pleased to say you passed. If you will." He beckoned for the glass. Tessa reached down and gave it to him. "You can return to your chamber," he said. "Don't think about any escape, mind you."

Tessa didn't say anything. Escaping wasn't even in her mind. She rushed up from the basement and almost ran to the stairs, desiring only to be as far away from Crawford as the safe house would allow.

* * *

**A/N: You can see where this might go, maybe? I'm aiming for an update next Saturday, so keep your eyes open. I'm on holiday right now, so I've got more time to write, but I still do have homework! I'm hoping I can get an update soon, but if I don't, I'm really sorry for misleading you! You can be assured; I am definitely not a person who updates once a month. I won't be that cruel to you. Once a week is more my style, probably on the weekends.**

**In case any one is doubting whether or not they had balloons back then, they did. It was invented in the 1820s.**

**PS: Read the full quote from Tristam Shandy, should you not already know it. It's a really beautiful and sad passage. If you're a history buff like me, you might have discovered the quote from reading about Thomas Jefferson and his wife. (By the way, that story is also very sad.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: First off, I know that these next few chapters are not going to be historically accurate (at least according to what research I've done), but for the sake of the story, please ignore whatever your nagging mind might be telling you. It bothers me as it does you. Honestly. **

**Please please please PLEASE review. I was hoping for a few more before I updated, I decided just to update anyway. Maybe you guys are reviewing and my computer just isn't showing them. I don't know. Thanks anyway for the favorites and story alerts!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"Here it is," Jack said, unrolling a faded piece of paper. He spread it out on the table and smoothed out the creases as best as he could. "This one will tell us where to find the next clue. It's not the easiest to read, I'm afraid." He stepped back and brought his hands together behind his back.

Charlotte leaned over it, bringing the lamp very close. "'Along your view to the outside world.' What could that mean?"

"There is a rather crucial detail I have just now recalled," Jack said. "It's not the most ideal, either." He had his hand on the back of his neck and was looking abashed. "None of the clues will be found here. That is to say, all the clues are…on the Conley Bridge campus."

"Well, that's just absolutely brilliant!" Will exclaimed, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "Not only do we need to waste time finding out what these clues mean, we have to run around some mundane school searching for them!" He looked at Jack with a burning expression. "Anything else you need to mention before we begin the fabulous journey, my good chap?"

Jack shook his head. Will snorted. "Wonderful."

"This should be quite an experience, won't it?" Henry said. "How should we go about hunting down the clues?" He exchanged looks with his wife.

The room fell silent. "I've got it," Charlotte said finally. "It's a rather…obvious one too, if I might add." She raked her eyes over Will and Jem. Will realized what she was thinking after a few seconds.

"Oh dear God," he muttered, closing his eye, his face at the floor. "You can't be serious!" he said, raising his voice and head.

"Will?" Jem looked at him. "What is it she's talking about?"

"She wants us to be students at this Conley Bridge!"

Jem's eyebrows flew upward. "Ah. That's an…unusual proposal.

Jessamine, however, was looking pleased. "Oh Will, you're such a child. How else are we supposed to find the clues? Just stop complaining for once in a while."

Will rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Jessie. You just want to go so you can learn how to be a useless mundane, so you can learn how to speak French, and pour tea."

Will was saved Jessamine's furious retort from an intervention coming from Jem. "Having a mundane education would be very interesting." He looked at Will and shrugged.

"Will, unfortunately, it's your only choice. As for you, Jessamine…" Charlotte heaved a sigh. "Jack, do girls attend Conley Bridge?"

"Yes, but they are in a completely different building," Jack said. "It's a much smaller one too. I'd say the male to female ratio at Conley Bridge is two to one."

"There, see?" Jessamine said triumphantly. "I can still go."

"Well!" Henry clapped his hands together once, looking excited. "Have we decided on a plan, then? The three young ones sneak into Conley Bridge disguised as regular students?"

"They won't be sneaking in, dear," Charlotte gently reprimanded her husband. "But yes, you are mostly correct. I shall pose an escort. Jack, how do we get new students admitted during the middle of the year?"

"You can speak with the headmaster. He'll get all the arrangements prepared for you."

"Excellent!" Charlotte beamed. "When shall we do this? Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Will jumped from his chair. "Rather hasty, aren't we?"

"Of course, do you want to wait until the end of the year?" Charlotte said, frowning at him. "We want Tessa back at the Institute as soon as possible."

"Oh, well, it's all quite dandy for you, isn't it?" Will said viciously. "You're not the one who has to impersonate a mundane."

Jem gave him a pointed look. Will sat down, looking mutinous.

* * *

"_Opportunity often comes in disguised in the form of misfortune, or temporary defeat."_

_- Napoleon Hill_

* * *

"Yes, I'm Charlotte Branwell. Are you the headmaster here?"

The man looked at her through his spectacles. He was a short, somewhat portly man. He was wearing a brown tweed suit and was smoking a black pipe with great skill. With two fingers, he took the pipe from his mouth and set it down on his desk. "Indeed," he said. "Benjamin Adlot. How can I be of service?"

"These children are under my care. Will you get them accepted into your school? We just moved here from—" She looked around for an inspiration. "—Wales." Will looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"Yes," Adlot said. "Yes, I can do that. Just a minute, while I get the register…" He dug something out from the depths of his desk and took up a pen. "Right. What would the names be? We'll start with the young lady, if you will."

"Jessamine Lovelace," she said, dipping her head. "That's J-E-S-S-A-M-I-N-E."

Adlot looked up when he was finished scratching down Jessamine's name. "The gentlemen?"

"James Carstairs."

"William Herondale."

"We'll need to find you three a room…The two boys, we'll keep you together, since if I assume that you know each other already? That won't be a problem?" He peered up at them.

"No," they said in unison. They turned to look at each other. Will grinned.

"Fantastic. As for Miss Lovelace…you'll be having your own room. We happen to have a smaller attendance this year, you're quite lucky. Usually finding space for new pupils takes longer, but with less occupants…" He gave Charlotte a piece of paper. "Here are the rooms. You can go up there now and look around. The girls' building is just outside, across the courtyard. I'll speak with the teachers today. Are you able to come back in three days time to pick up the schedules and uniforms? All of you will have to come, so we can get measurements for the clothing."

"Oh that's fine. Classes will start the next day, then?"

"Yes. Is that doable?"

"Yes," Charlotte said. "I'll see you in three days," Charlotte said. "Thank you very much, sir."

The four of them trooped out into the hall. Charlotte read the piece of paper Adlot had given her. "Jessie, your room is 437. Will, Jem…515. I'll go with Jessie, can you boys manage?"

"Of course," Jem said. "We'll meet back here in…half an hour?"

"Half an hour," Charlotte agreed.

The two units went their separate ways. The boys ascended the staircase, which, at the last landing, had a plaque nailed into the wall. "Five-fifteen…to the right," Will said, pointing.

The hallway was lit with many oil lamps that were turned low. Will, bored, counted twelve by the time they reached their designated room. He pushed opened the door. "Let's see our room."

The two stopped in the threshold. "Quite drab," was the first thing Will said. He turned to Jem, "Don't you think?"

Jem moved aside a small stool with his foot. The legs of it scraped against the wooden floor. "Certainly not as elaborate as the church," he said slowly.

There were two beds, each one situated close to the wall. There was not much decoration in the room, other than a mirror and small painting of a vase of flowers. There was a long paper screen. Jem pulled it out a little bit. "Looks like this divides the room." He repacked it and went to the window that was in between the beds. The window was a wide one, with plain blue curtains. "The view is nice as well," he said. "You can see the whole of London from here."

Will went to the bed and laid down flat on it. He groaned. "This mattress is horrible," he grumbled. "I'm going to be kept awake all night. Jem, by the time we get out of this place, don't be surprised if I can't walk."

Jem tested it himself on the other. "Oh, it's not so terrible," he said.

"Maybe I'm just too hard to satisfy, then," Will said, closing his eyes.

Jem sat on his bed, saying nothing, simply scanning the room more. "Ah. Look at this." He got up and walked somewhere.

Will opened his eyes and rolled off the bed. He followed Jem to where a solid bookshelf was. Jem put a hand on it and patted it. "This should please you, no?"

"Yes, it does," Will said. "The only thing in this room I can't find fault with."

"Glad to see we have reached a consensus."

They then commenced to explore around the building. There wasn't much, at least not until they walked to the portion that housed the classrooms. Will peered into a vacant one. It was very busy inside. Maps and pictures were plastered all over the walls. The desks were very small, with chairs to match. They were clustered together tightly as well. The teacher's desk was larger. On a sideboard next to it was a globe and abacus. There was a chalkboard in the front of the room.

"That's exactly where I want to spend the next month," Will said, jerking his thumb towards it.

Jem looked in. "Oh, you'll survive."

"I think not!" Will said haughtily.

They reunited with the women later on. "How's your room, Jessamine?" Jem asked. "Will's already treated me to a nice rant about how ours lacks in the necessities he needs."

"It's all right," Jessamine said. "I mean, I would prefer if it was a bit more colorful, everything is mostly brown or cream. Charlotte and I moved the two beds so that they'll touch. Now my bed it twice as large as it could have been." She smiled smugly.

"Oh!" Will gave a mocking gasp. "The event of the century!"

* * *

**A/N: This might have been a slow chapter to some people, sorry about that. The next updates will be focusing mostly on these guys, if nothing changes in my plans. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yes, I know, I'm late. But here's Chapter Five! This was fun to write, imagining what they would do to prepare for mundane boarding school. I tried to incorporate Will-Jem bromance moments, because I know a lot of people like those things. Too much? Too little? Give me feedback!**

**I have started a new Infernal Devices story called Letters Across the Atlantic. It's not really a new plot, just a collection of letters going back and forth between Tessa and her friend back in New York. Check it out! **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Will tapped the lid impatiently. Jem sat next to him, Charlotte and Jessamine across the carriage in the opposite set of seats. The lamp swung lazily from the roof of the carriage, the light making dappled patterns on the black interior of the carriage. It was a depressing day in London. The sky was dark gray, storm clouds gathering in the distance.

The horses pulled up short. There was a dull thud as Jack landed on the ground. He opened the door of the carriage and helped the women down. Will and Jem waited their turn and then stepped into the wind.

"Thank you, Jack," Charlotte said, holding onto her hat. "Take care of the horses and then come inside immediately."

"Yes ma'am," Jack said. He turned and began to fumble with the harnesses.

"Come along," Charlotte said, leading the way into the Institute, her little figure hunched against the weather. She opened the great heavy doors and walked in, Will shutting it tightly behind him. They made their way to the dining room.

The table was clear of all dishes, a new tablecloth pressed cleanly. Will cast aside his black frock coat and ran a hand through his hair. "Time to see what these look like, finally," he said. He set his package on the table and opened the lid.

There was a layer of paper covering the clothes, which Will discarded. Underneath was a piece of gray fabric. Will removed it from the box and smoothed it out to examine.

There was a pair of simple gray trousers, much like the ones Will and Jem already wore on an everyday basis. There was a clean white cotton shirt, with a midnight blue tie strung about the collar of it. And finally, a dark blue-black blazer with a single breast pocket on the left side, with the Conley Bridge school crest embroidered upon it. Will had crossed his arms, with finger at his chin. He nodded a few times, and then turned to Jem. "What do you think?"

"I'm thinking it's fine. Although, knowing you, I don't think you'll have the same opinion as me."

"On the contrary, mate," Will said. "There's nothing wrong with it. What I'm worried is what I'll smell like after wearing this for weeks on end. Disgusting."

"There are two sets here," Jem said, poking aside the extra paper. "You don't have to wear this on the weekend, either, Will. There isn't any class then."

"Hm." Will looked between the pairs of clothing. Then he stepped back. "What's yours like, Jessie? Pretty little dress, is it?"

"Not exactly…" Jessamine said. "Though…" She considered it. "It's not horrible." She held it up for the boys to see her uniform.

The dress was the same shade as the ties, but had small trimmings of red plaid along the hem and sleeves. It was the customary length, of course, down to the feet. A laced white pinafore went along with it. Black stockings and shoes, both quite plain and ordinary.

"Oh, poor Jessie!" Will sighed loudly. "Quite a departure from your usual frippery, is it not? How _will_ you manage? I'll send out an order for your tombstone right away. Would you like to write your own epitaph? I'll get a pen."

Jessamine scowled. "You needn't make a show of everything I do, William Herondale. That's one of the reasons nobody likes you."

"I like Will," Jem said mildly.

Jessamine huffed and took her box out of the room. Will looked after her and scoffed loudly. "Women! They're all the same. So touchy and temperamental! You can never win their favor for very long before they turn on you with knives in the eyes."

"Personally, it's my belief that you're the only one who thinks that way about women," Charlotte said. "Will, Jem, did you remember to pack up some of your belongings? I hope you did."

"I did," Jem said immediately.

"I didn't," Will said, not looking abashed.

"Why not?" Charlotte said exasperatedly. "Jem, help him, will you? He'll take the night if he doesn't have help. And bring your own things down into the foyer when you're done." Wringing her hands, she left the room.

"Go on, then," Jem said. He poked Will in the back. "You heard her." They went into the hall and climbed the staircase to the boys' rooms. Jem opened Will's door and stopped in the entrance. "My God, Will. Do you ever clean?"

"Not really," Will said. "Everything is already in place. Or, to rephrase that, where I like it to be. How many packs did you make up?"

"Two," Jem replied.

"Two it is," Will said.

"Oh, but Will, one of them doesn't even have much in it. Just my violin. I'm only using one for clothing and things like that. You'll probably only use one," Jem added.

"I'll need two, don't you worry, James," Will assured his friend. He rummaged around and pulled two cases from the corner of his room. He rubbed a hand over the surface, then withdrew it quickly, his palm lightly coated with a layer of dust.

"Been a while?" Jem said casually, lifting his eyebrows.

"I'd say so," Will agreed. He whipped out a handkerchief from his waistcoat and wiped himself clean. "Let's see." He stepped back and considered the cases. "One for necessities, one for accessories." Will kneeled down and unlatched the gold buckles, lifting the lid. It was lined with a deep red-magenta velvet cushion that had many slits in it to hold thinner objects. It reminded Jem of the part of his violin case that held his bow.

Clothes went in first. Four heavy coats, three of them in varying shades of gray, the last one black. Seven outfits followed, all of which were elegant and stylish, as was Will's way of dressing himself. He was never afraid to be too elaborate when sporting his attire. Jem had noticed this within the first few days of knowing him. Even as a child, Will had always been flashy. He was somewhat ostentatious with his dress, but not to the extreme that people stared with their mouths gaping open and drool was running down their chin, but to the point where it impressed and was admired, and people knew that he wasn't just wearing any old jacket from the local store.

Next were the Shadowhunter essentials. Will's witchlight was wrapped in a piece of linen and put in the corner. Six seraph blades slid into the lid of the case, each one shining softly with the sheen of just being sharpened.

"Six?" Jem said. "Isn't that a bit excessive?"

"Not at all," Will said. "I don't know about you, but this whole business is quite fishy to me. I don't like it. Plus, isn't Conley Bridge by Hyde? I'm not facing any of those ducks without a good supply of weapons."

"Will, they're ducks."

"Exactly. You saw that test. Nasty beasts."

Jem laughed.

"Well, that's it for this one," Will said, smacking the lid down and locking it shut. He stood up and looked around. "You hold on, Jem. I'll be right back." He bounded out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a wrapped package.

"What's that?"

"Chocolate," Will said, holding the bundle out. Jem inhaled deeply and smelled the sweet scent.

"And why do you have that?"

"Please, Jem. I'm sure Mr. Creakle never let David have any sweets in school. I'm not about to go down that path." He shuddered and put the package into his case. "Speaking of which…"

Will strode to the oak bookcase that was next to his four-poster bed. He fingered a few novels, stroking the spines of each one slowly. Then he thrust his hand into the shelf and returned to his case with his arms full of books.

"Right, these will go in…alphabetically," Will decided.

"They already are, though," Jem noticed after bending his head sideways to read the titles. "Goodness, Will, you're bringing this many?"

"Have to," Will said. "I didn't get a look in at the library, and I don't want to risk it." He stacked them into his case. "Should I bring my blankets? The ones in that dorm didn't seem that great."

"_Will._"

"I was joking! All right, I'm finished. Downstairs these go."

The boys heaved their heavy cases down the corridor and stairs, finally coming to a halt in front of the door. Will flexed his shoulder. "Hope there's someone to help with these at the school."

"You should take up violin or viola," Jem suggested. "It really builds arm strength."

* * *

**A/N: What do you think so far? I take all opinions into consideration, don't be scared! Sorry if I'm not updating often enough, I'll try to fix that. I'm _begging _you, please please please review! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yes, I know. I haven't updated Kill me now, if you want. (Please don't actually.) Here's Chapter 6, enjoy! I don't even want to start to think about how this is so incorrect, at least historically speaking. That's kind of a recurring theme in my story, but I promise, I'm doing as much research as I can so it is accurate. **

**I hope I'll update again soon, but I don't know…I'm on break **_**again**_**, with no homework too! Four tests today, so I was quite busy the last week or so; I apologize for the tardiness. The little homework I did have I managed to do before the end of the day, so I wouldn't have to it over vacation. But enough about that, you probably don't want to hear me ramble on about my school life, so I'll leave you to this next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare own The Infernal Devices**

* * *

"Welcome back," Adlot said. "I trust that your uniforms fit you well?"

"Yes, they're fine. Thank you very much, sir," Jem said.

"Excellent!" Adlot exclaimed. "Well, I appreciate you coming here early. You needn't worry, every day isn't like this at Conley Bridge!" He gave a small chuckle and then cleared his throat. "Anyhow, I picked out two prefects to show you three around for the first few days. We have Lavender Parry for you, Miss Lovelace."

Jessamine nodded slightly, giving the other girl an appraising look. _She's not much,_ Jessamine decided. _A bit on the skimpy side. I'll have to find some other companions to associate myself with. This girl isn't going to get me anywhere, in terms of social status. _

"…and for the two gentlemen, we have Stephen Garner." A blonde boy made his way forward, and the two boys murmured some words of acknowledgment. Garner and Will both gave each a hard stare, but after a moment Will lost interest and looked pointedly away.

"Classes start in approximately…" Adlot pulled out a silver pocket watch and flipped the top up. "Twenty minutes. That gives you just enough time to get to the room and speak with the professor before everyone comes storming into their seats. It's best to avoid the rush."

"Shall we go, then?" Lavender asked, and escorted Jessamine out of the office. Garner waited a minute and then went after her, gesturing mutely at Will and Jem to follow. Will raised his eyebrows, and Jem shrugged. They strolled into the courtyard, where their guide was waiting, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Which one's which?" Garner said, speaking for the first time. "I was told your names, but not what you look like. Are you Will or Jem?" he inquired, pointing at Will.

"I'm Will Herondale," he said. "This is Jem Carstairs."

"Right, well I'm glad to have that sorted out." Garner said, walking very fast towards one of the buildings. "We have mathematics first. The teacher is Professor Anderson. He's very strict; so don't go fooling around in his class, or it'll be trouble, mark my words.

"Then we have geography, with Professor Orla. I hope you have a quick hand, because you'll need it while he's lecturing."

The list of classes went on and on. There was history after geography, then science after that. Then there was a break for a meal in the cafeteria, and then back for more studying of philosophy, a bit of law, and literature. That was the only class that Will was actually looking forward to.

They had arrived at one of the classrooms. It was identical to the one Will had previously looked into. Garner opened the door and strutted in smartly.

"Professor, Headmaster Adlot told you that we would have new students, right? Here they are! William Herondale and James Carstairs."

"Sir," Will and Jem greeted.

"Yes," Anderson said. He reached to a ruler on his desk and picked it up. He pointed to a pair of desks sitting in the third row. "Take those," he said with a steely edge to his voice. "Now let me give you two fair warning. My class moves fast, and I don't play around with mischief-makers. If I catch any disobedience in this room, I will make sure that you receive what you deserve."

Anderson got up from his chair heavily and began to walk in circles about Will and Jem. "There will be no eating or drinking during my lessons, or in this room. There is no speaking unless I ask you to. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," the boys said.

"Now, I assume that you have attended or have had some sort of education before today?" Anderson said.

Will and Jem exchanged looks. Along than being schooled in being a Shadowhunter, they had also been taught everything Conley Bridge was offering. These courses were just as rigorous as the Shadowhunter ones, and they progressed with lessons quickly. As it turned out, everyone at the Institute had learned as many things as a mundane would by the time they finished college, and maybe even more so.

"Yes sir," Jem said. "I'm sure we'll be able to handle the curriculum."

"Good," Anderson said. "I won't have to go through catching you up with the other students. They should be coming in any moment now, so you three go on to your seats." He returned to his own.

Will and Jem sat down. Garner walked a few rows behind them and sat on the opposite side of the room. The door then burst open.

About three-dozen boys, ranged from ages sixteen to eighteen stood in the entranceway, lined up single file. Without a word, they entered and made their way to their seats noiselessly. There was a slight rustling as everyone got out his materials for the day. Then the sounds decreased and it was still in the room once again. Anderson stood up and cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, if you haven't already noticed, there has been an addition to our class. If you would please notice William Herondale and James Carstairs." Everyone's heads turned to stare at them, mouths slightly agape. _Like guppies in a pond,_ Will thought, remembering when he had nearly fallen into the water while observing the fish. _Disgusting. _He shuddered as he spotted one of the younger boys with a dark, ugly stain on the front of his jacket, his hair oily and in disarray. Not like Will's casual, tousled look. This boy's hair was just a complete mess.

As per usual, Jem sat straight up and was attentive while the teacher talked. Within minutes, Will's focus began to waver. Jem had to nudge him discreetly in the ribs to avoid him getting caught almost falling asleep more than one time. Finally, Will took a piece of paper, smoothed it out in front of him on his desk and took up his pen. Under the pretense of writing notes, Will began to doodle idly on it. Then scribbling out his drawing, he scrawled out a quick note and slid it to Jem.

_When are we going to start on this mission that we're supposed to be working on?_ it read. "Later!" Jem mouthed at Will.

Will rolled his eyes.

The lesson dragged on, Anderson's monotonous drone like a bee's buzz in Will's ear. At last, he heard the words "class dismissed," and he jumped up, immediately alert.

"I believe geography's next," Jem said, consulting his schedule.

"By the Angel, how many classes are there?" Will complained.

"Will, we've only been in one."

"It feels like it's been a thousand."

The morning passed by slower than Will ever remembered. When they had finally finished science, Will brought up the subject that was bothering him.

"So what about it, then?" he said. "We ought to be in the first stage of the operation, don't you think? We should find Jessie and begin working on this puzzle. These lessons are just wasting time, something that we don't have much of that at the moment."

"I—" Jem began, but stopped as another voice interrupted them.

"Found you!" It was Garner. "You two move fast, don't you? I almost lost you there! Glad you made it you your classes." He laughed, clearly not noticing the annoyed look on Will's face, or if he did, was excellent at concealing his reaction. "Listen, Herondale, Carstairs: lunch's up next, that's in the other building." Then he chuckled slyly. "We'll be seeing the girls now," he said. "They eat with us. Look over there." He pointed.

They had reached a courtyard. Sure enough, hordes of girls were making their way to their next class. A few of them stopped to speak with some boys that they were friends with, but most of them went about their own business. Catching the eye of a pretty girl with dark hair, Will gave her a roguish grin and winked at her. She turned bright red and turned away, her mouth open in an astonished _O_. She giggled and then began chatting animatedly to her companion.

Jem smiled. He was used to this mischievous play that went between Will and other young women. Garner, on the other hand, was staring at Will with something that was close to wonder.

"Well aren't you just the perfect Romeo!" Garner said. "That was Vanessa Pembroke, the most popular girl in school." He huffed. "She won't be keeping that to herself, no she won't. You're the first person I've seen get that sort of reaction from her. I said good morning to her once and she nearly kicked me down the steps." He gave a long, tragic sigh. "Care to share any tips?"

"No," Will said bluntly. "Those tips are exclusively for my use, and my use only. Besides," Will went on, looking over Garner, "I doubt they would help you in any capacity." He continued to walk, then ceased, so abruptly that Jem walked into him.

"Sorry about that, Will," Jem said.

"Never mind that," Will said impatiently. "Jem, see that? Jessamine's over there."

Jem looked. "Hm. So she is."

"Jessamine?" Garner asked. "She was in Headmaster Adlot's room with us, wasn't she? What was her surname?"

"Lovelace," Jem provided.

Will kept his gaze on her, thinking fast. "Jem, come on. Garner, excuse us."

"Jessamine!" She turned at Will's voice. "How's it been so far?"

"Lovely," Jessamine said. "I started a new sampler, it's going to be beautiful. I have French right after lunch, I can't wait. Finally I'll be able to learn something useful." She sounded resentful.

"Well, that's great," Will said, "but we need to start on this whole thing with Crawford."

Jessamine made a face. "Really? I've just started to act like a normal mundane, and then you have to come in and ruin it all—"

"Jessamine, don't forget why we're here in the first place," Jem reminded her.

"I haven't!" she hissed.

"Good," Will said. "Are you allowed to sit with us during this time?"

"I suppose so," she said grudgingly.

"Let's go, then," Will said.

* * *

**A/N: Please review! I know quite a few people have a story alert for this, so some people must be reading it! Please just say a few words! It really helps me improve for future chapters!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yay, new chappy! For those who want more Tessa, she will be appearing in the next chapter, I promise. Hopefully it will be up by Friday or Saturday (that's 4/8/11 or 4/9/11 in my time, for anyone who's in a different part of the country/world). **

**Anyway, I had this thought. We ID fans still need to think of the proper portmanteaus for our respective "teams". A portmanteau, if you don't know what it is already, is a blend of two more words, also called "name smooshing". A few examples are Percabeth (Percy and Annabeth from Percy Jackson and the Olympians), Dramione (Draco and Hermione from Harry Potter), and Suspian (Caspian and Susan, from the Chronicles of Narnia). I know one has already been somewhat established, that would be Chenry. A few others I noticed were Jessa and Tessiam, and I thought of this one myself: Jill, which I thought was funny. Anyway, if you think of one, tell it to me in a review and let's get it rolling!**

**Now for a few quick things: 1. ****I've also changed my pen name to TheForgetMeNot. 2. Follow me on Twitter: The_Red_Clover. Message me that you're from , so I know where you're coming from.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. William Shakespeare owns Romeo and Juliet.**

* * *

The three of them found a small table and settled down around it. It was situated in the corner of the large eating chamber, a further away from the others. "No one should be able to eavesdrop on us here," Jem said.

"Yes, yes, now that we've figured out where we'll sit, can we get something to eat?" Jessamine said brusquely. "I'm starving."

They parted ways for a few minutes and then returned back to their seats with their plates loaded. The boys' plates were, at least. Will stared at Jessamine's, which was empty except for a shallow bowl of soup and a handful of strawberries. "You're starving and that's all you're going to eat?" Will said.

"This is all I'll need," Jessamine said. "I'm sure that my starving is different than yours, Herondale."

"Fine, whatever you want," he said airily. Will buttered a roll generously and tore off half of it with his teeth. Swallowing, he took the crumpled clue from his jacket and reread it. "_Along your view to the outside world._"

"The outside world would be…outer space?" Jem suggested. "There are stars and planets there, and we use…a spyglass or telescope to look at those!" His face brightened; he was excited. "Perhaps there's an observatory at the school."

"That's a good idea," Will agreed. "Good thinking, Jem."

"Well, now all we need to do is—"

"God, you two like to move around, don't you?" Garner appeared behind Will's shoulder. "I—" He glanced next to Jem's place briefly and did a double take. He colored slightly at one sight of Jessamine. "This would be…" He gestured at her.

"Jessamine Lovelace," she said. "Please to meet you."

"Stephen Garner," Garner introduced. "At your service." He pulled out one of the spare seats and put himself across from her, next to Will. "What do you think of Conley Bridge so far?" he asked, setting his elbows on the table and his chin in his palms.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" Jessamine rhapsodized. "I loved the singing class. I never knew that this school had such a pristine choir! The art class was amazing also. The students here are amazing…" Even though Jessamine continue praising the girls in her class with great volume, Will knew it was just an act.

"Well, just wait," Garner said. "You haven't seen even half of what Conley Bridge has to offer to beautiful young women like you."

"Do you need something?" Will interrupted, sounding irritated. "The three of us have something we need to discuss, and it's rather important. Do you mind?"

"If it's so important, you could probably use an extra brain," Garner began. "I would be happy—"

"No, thank you," Will said, his tone final. He crossed his arms and glowered at his plate.

Garner looked offended, but only a little bit. "Very well. I'll find you for the afternoon classes, then?"

"I'm sure we'll be able to manage," Will said curtly.

Garner looked doubtful, but nodded. Without another word, he got up and left. "Good riddance," Will muttered. "Now, where were we? Telescopes! Spyglasses! Observatories! Excellent. When are we supposed to find a time when can investigate these things? In a stuffy school like this, there's bound to be some sort of curfew."

"Glamours would be the safest way," Jessamine said unexpectedly. "No one will be able to see us."

"How clever, Jessie," Will said. "Let us proceed from there. We disguise ourselves with glamours and meet here? At this table, around…midnight? And by 'we' I mean you also, Jessie. You're a much a part of this as Jem and I. We're going to need as much help as we can get in solving this mystery."

"'l'll come, I'll come, all right?" she snapped.

"It's decided, then," Jem said. "Will, do you think it would be wise to find out if there is actually a observatory here before we go running off on this? I'm sure that Garner would know if there was."

"You can ask him, James," Will said. "That person annoys the hell out of me."

They all returned back to their classes soon after. Before philosophy, Will went ahead to pick out a pair of desks while Jem sought out Garner. There he was, milling about in the corner of the room with a few of his friends surround him. Jem tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. "May I speak with you?" Jem asked.

"What is it?"

"This school. Is there an observatory anywhere on campus?"

"Oh, there is one," Garner said. "Do you want me to show it to you? We can go before supper. It won't take anytime at all. You won't be missing any time. You'll be back with Will before you know it."

At the mention of his parabatai, Jem felt a twinge of sympathy. As was his habit, Will made no effort to conceal any feelings of scorn or disdain from others. "That'd be perfect," Jem said, smiling at Garner. "And by the way…" Garner looked up. "I'd like to apologize for Will's behavior. You shouldn't take it personally, really. He's like that to nearly everyone. It's just his nature. He has a reason for acting that way, trust me. I know him."

Garner looked thoughtful. "I see, and I understand. I'll try not to push him."

"Thank you very much," Jem said, bowing slightly. He bounded back to where Will was sitting. "Garner's going to take me to the observatory before supper, so don't wait up," Jem said.

"Fine."

* * *

"_Boredom is the feeling that everything is a waste of time; serenity, that nothing is."_

_- Thomas S. Szasz_

* * *

"That was the weakest study of great literature I have ever listened to in my life," Will grumbled. "And what person hasn't memorized '_But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.' _That idiot deserved that thrashing." Will dug around in his pocket and pulled out a small glass marble. He began bouncing it on his palm absentmindedly.

"Keep quiet," Jem said softly.

"That would be wise," Garner said. "Carstairs, should we go?"

Will took one look at him, caught the marble, and stowed it away. He clapped Jem on the shoulder, saying, "I'll find Jessie, then? Catch up later, James, mate." He sauntered off.

"I take it Herondale enjoys reading?" Garner guessed. They set off towards one of the smaller corridors.

"Very much so," Jem replied. "I do believe that he knows _Romeo and Juliet_ by heart." Jem laughed. "I always thought Shakespeare was too dramatic for me, but Will's quite attracted to that. He's always combing every single line, making mental notes and the like. He has quite the analytical mind, Will does."

"He should have contributed to the talk, then" Garner said. "If he's so troubled by it. Then again, showing off his prowess at interpreting Shakespeare would probably just make people not like him. That class is tough enough as it is, hardly anybody gets through it alive. If he went 'round like it was something he'd been doing for years, the other students wouldn't think so well of him." They had reached a flight of stairs.

"The observatory is up here?" Jem asked, changing the subject.

"That's right," Garner said. "It's pretty high up. I think…" Garner squinted. "Six or seven sets of stairs. It's up top, so just keep going until you're there. Do you need to see it right now?"

Jem looked about and noticed a silver plate on the wall. It read, _Observatory upstairs_, and then an arrow pointing upward. So this was the right place. "No, that's all right." They turned around and headed back to the main hall.

Going there separate ways, Jem spotted Will and Jessamine sitting at the same table, not talking to each other. Will looked up when he heard Jem's arrival. "I've got where the observatory is."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget about the portmanteaus, let's gooo!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey, long time no see, Tessa! Yes, back for a visit to the safe house. A little bit of filler in this chapter, but not too much. There's an explanation for it. **

**Thank you all _so _much for the author favoriting, story favoriting, and author alerts! I really love it when I see that email notification. **

**I hope you guys like this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"MISS GRAY! Where are you? Not trying to skive off your duties, are you?"

Tessa groaned and rolled onto her back, flinging her pillow over her head to block out the sound.

"MISS GRAY!"

Footsteps came running through the corridor and stopped in front of her room. There was a pounding on the door.

"Get up, get up!"

With a great amount of effort, Tessa pulled herself out from the bed and walked to the door. She opened it. "Good morning to you too," she said irritably, not meeting Crawford's eyes.

"About time," he sneered, fiddling with the ties of his red bathrobe. "I've been waiting forever." He retreated from the threshold and they made their way to Crawford's bathroom.

Tessa had been here several times now. The floor and walls were tiled white with gold accents, the tabletops a clean, dark marble. There was a long stain glass window stretching from the floor to the ceiling next to a stand that held a vase full of flowers and clear bowl of rose petals. In the center of the room was a large bathtub, with gilt taps and clawed feet, much like Tessa's had been while she stayed at the Institute. An elaborate paper screen depicting a flock of birds in flight surrounded it completely, making a circle around the tub. The air was thick with perfume. Several cushioned seats were in various places against the walls. The whole room was much more lavish and ornate than her own.

"Hurry up, then," Crawford said, giving her a push. He set down a bundle of clothing on the counter and sat down, crossing his legs and tapping his foot impatiently.

Tessa went behind the screen approached the tub and turned on both taps. She rolled up her sleeves high up onto her arms and once the water was high enough, began to swish it about, mixing both cold and hot temperatures together. She turned off the cold tap and left the hot one to run, creating a thin steam in the bathroom.

Next Tessa poured a jar of bath salts into the tub, shaking the bottle evenly over the water. She added a generous dose of lavender bath oil. Tessa reached up, felt around, and grabbed the rose petal bowl. With one sweep of her arm, she scattered all the petals into the water. There were so many that once they were distributed, not much of the water could be seen.

The combined scents of the rose, lavender, and the vanilla bath salts were actually making Tessa feel light-headed, as she usually did while she drew Crawford's bath. She wiped her arms and hands dry, and went in front of the screen to inform Crawford that it was ready.

"Thank you," he said stiffly. He went behind the screen, disrobed, and sank into the water. Tessa stood with her back to the screen, with a green towel in her hands, reflecting on what happened in the last days.

Something in Crawford had sparked that night Tessa had attempted to escape. What it was, she didn't know, but from that day forward, Tessa was now his personal servant.

This wasn't much of an improvement from her previous status in the safe house. She had slightly better food now, but was still not allowed to eat at Crawford's table with his henchmen. Rather, she hovered next to his chair, filling his glass with more wine when it was empty and cutting his cake. Then she went back to her room where her own meal was waiting for her.

There was something growing in the back of Tessa's mind. Crawford was making something. He was plotting away, always somewhere deep in the building, working on some unknown project. Tessa couldn't help thinking that it involved the strange drink she had been forced to consume. Periodically, Crawford would give her another sample to try. It had the same affect on her, like she was being squeezed in her stomach. Whatever it was, it made Tessa uneasy.

A sharp rap behind her cleared her head. Crawford was done with his soak. She handed the towel around the screen to him and retrieved his outfit. She heard him wiping himself, and then his hand came back around. She put the stack of clothes in his palm and turned around once more.

"Very good, very good," Crawford said, toweling his wet hair, coming out to face her. "An excellent set up."

"Thank you, sir."

"Clean up in there and come join us for breakfast," he said, giving the sopping wet towel to Tessa.

"Yes sir, I won't be long."

Tessa immediately regretted the words, for she knew as soon as she took a look in the screen, it was going to take a very long time indeed. She opened one of the drawers and took out all the towels.

Crawford was an extremely messy bather. Tessa didn't even think she or Nate had been this horrible when they were children. One step in and her shoes were nearly soaked through. She flapped open the towels and spread them on the floor, allowing them to absorb some of the water. Gingerly, Tessa lifted her skirts and made her way to the tub. Crawford hadn't even let the water out. From what Tessa could see, about a fourth of the original volume had splashed out onto the floor. She hitched her sleeves up as high as they could go, dipped her hand into the soapy water, and groped around for the plug.

There it was. She pulled up and the water began draining out smooth at first, then slowly becoming choppier as the hole was congested with the wet petals. She took a handful of them and tossed them into the wastebasket. Now that the tub was clean, she could start on the floor.

With her toe, she moved the damp towels around. When they were completely saturated, she picked each one up by the corner and squeezed out the excess water into the sink. She did this two more times, using new towels each time. She hung the towel Crawford had used up and felt around one final time, searching for a moist spot. She found none. Letting a sigh of relief escape her, Tessa washed her hands thoroughly and went to the dining hall.

Crawford was eating a plate of eggs. Tessa curtsied to announce her presence. "Sir."

"Ah. Got that bathroom all in order?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." Crawford turned away from Tessa and started on a piece of toast. Tessa allowed herself to wonder, vaguely, when she would ever be able to leave the safe house.

Hansen, Monroe, and Bartlett were all eating like pigs. Hansen said in between mouthfuls of bacon, "Got those new materials ready?"

Tessa was instantly listening.

"I've had them ready since yesterday morning," Crawford said. "It's about time, too. I couldn't be sure though. The reactions weren't exactly what I had expected when I first saw them."

"You've mixed it already?" Monroe asked with surprise.

"No, not yet. I'm going to tonight."

"Why didn't you do it yesterday, if you had everything ready?" Bartlett asked.

"I couldn't. It's the new moon tonight, that's when it will work to its fullest potential," Crawford explained.

Tessa was bursting with questions, but didn't dare to say anything. Instead, she ventured, "Excuse me, sir. Please forgive me if I'm too forward, but will I be needed at this event?"

Crawford paused in his chewing, and slowly laid down his fork. He tilted his head slightly to look at Tessa through the corner of his eye. The expression on his face was impossible to read. "Not this time, Miss Gray," he said finally. "Although I am pleased by your eagerness to assist me." He patted her hand.

"Yes sir," Tessa said, disappointed.

Crawford had detected the subtle change of tone. "Is there something wrong with that, Miss Gray?"

"No, not at all," Tessa said quickly.

"Well, fear not, Miss Gray. I'm sure I'll be able to manage, even without your presence. You will, however, eventually see the final product." He smiled.

"I will?"

"Oh yes, indeed."

* * *

_"Our fatigue is often caused not by work, but by worry, frustration, and resentment."_

_- Dale Carnegie _

* * *

Tessa felt like a rat being cornered by a mouse. She felt tense all the time, and was convinced that she kept checking about her person to be sure that she wasn't being followed by anyone. "It's obvious this is because of that Crawford," Tessa muttered to herself the next day, pacing in her room. "What in the _world _is he doing?"

It was after supper. Tessa had paid minute attention to every single thing that Crawford, Hansen, Monroe, or Bartlett said, but still could not even begin to make a guess on what was going to happen that night.

Groaning, Tessa changed into her sleeping clothes and threw herself into bed. She turned the lamp low and attempted to clear her mind of all things that had to do with the safe house.

She tossed and turned the entire night. Tessa shoved her blankets off, pulled them back on, counted fifty-seven sheep, sat up and punched her pillow into different positions, mentally listened to Mozart, but none of it helped her in the slightest.

"That's the final straw!" Tessa whispered fiercely in the dark. "I've got to find out about this!"

She put the covers aside, donned her robe and opened the door slowly. It made an awful squeak, and she ducked instinctively. There was nothing to be heard. Tessa dared pushing it a few more inches open, just enough for her to worm her way through the crack. She now stood in the middle of the black corridor, which was illuminated only by one long window. Tessa felt her way down the hall, wishing too late that she had brought the lamp with her.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review! **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I think this is one of the longest chapters, if not the longest! It was sad to write, I wanted to cry near the end of it. Anyway, it's kind of a filler, depends on how you look at it. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. Jane Austen owns Northanger Abbey.**

* * *

Will flipped the pages of his book lazily, not really processing any of the words. He was lying on his stomach on his bed, legs flat and his chin in one of his palms, the other leafing through the book. He stopped on one of the pages he knew read his one of his favorite quotes. He put his finger on it and murmured, "'The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.'" He gave a sigh and rolled onto his back. "Truer words have never been spoken," he said contentedly. "Northanger Abbey, one of the best."

"What's that?" Jem said, who was plucking arpeggios on his violin so as not to disturb his parabatai. He was hunched over on his bead, holding his ear close to the f-holes. "The E is out of tune…" Jem muttered, taking up his bow and drawing it ever so softly across the string as he adjusted the tuning pegs.

"Oh nothing," Will said absently mindedly. "Although, people are _very _good at expressing the very frank truth. I like that. More people should just—" Will snapped his fingers, "say it like that." Moving onto his side, he leaned his head on his hand, with his upper arm lying flat on the mattress, and he resumed his perusal of the novel. For a while, the only noise was soft pizzicato, the rustling of sheet music and turning pages.

It was not very late, only about eight o'clock. But the boys had retired to their rooms after the evening meal and had been in there for a long time. It wasn't even curfew for another hour. The window was open just a crack, a slight breeze ruffling the curtains every time it passed through the room.

"I'm going to sleep," Will announce, putting his book away. "Wake me when it's time, will you?" He lowered himself onto the cushions, not bothering to get under the covers.

"All right," Jem said.

Will closed his eyes.

* * *

_"A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow."_

_- Charlotte Bronte_

* * *

_It was a beautiful day, the kind when all the birds sang their songs, when the __parks were full of children laughing and pulling at their parents' hands, dragging them along to look at the pretty flowers, or to help them catch one of those little brown squirrels with the big bushy tails._

_ Will was dragging someone's hand, but it wasn't it his mother's, nor was it his father's. "Come _on_, Cecily!" the nine-year-old boy complained. "Why are you always so slow? You're taking forever!" He stopped his light jogging and stamped his foot impatiently. "You'll never get anywhere in life going at that rate."_

_ His companion stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll go at whatever rate I want to, William Herondale. Not even the likes of you will change that." The little girl continued at her moderate pace, stepping carefully and deliberately. She didn't, however, remove her hand from Will's, something he smirked at._

_ "What's so funny?" Cecily asked suspiciously. _

_ Will just laughed. "Your hair clip is all mussed up, that's all."_

_It wasn't, really. _

_ Cecily made a "tsk" sound. "There see, it's all that running you made me do earlier." Even though it was in perfect position, she reached up and took it out, then fastened it back into place. "There. How does it look?"_

_ "Very nice," Will said. He was being honest. Will always admired the clips that Cecily decorated her hair with, this one especially. It was light blue crystal, carved into a shape of a magnificent blossom. Whenever Cecily moved her head, the facets of the jewel caught the light and winked back at Will. _

"_You'll be sorry if we turn up and it's gone," he warned Cecily. She had gone back to her slow speed. "You'll probably never see another one in your life. Especially since you're a girl." He nodded importantly. _

_ Cecily sighed. "Why can't you just tell me what it is? Then maybe I'll hurry up to please you so." _

_ "I can't, that's the point," Will explained. "If you know what it is, that takes on the fun out of it." He was walking backward now, still gripping Cecily's hand in his. "You'll love it, I know you will."_

_ They strolled in silence for a little while longer. Older couples around them smiled when they saw the two youngsters hand in hand. They looked exactly like a young woman and her beau, if not in a much more diminutive form. One lady, who could not have been more than twenty-five was walking with a man Will presumed to be her husband. She detached himself gently from him when she noticed them and then walked right up to Will and Cecily, only pausing to pick a stray flower, one with a brilliant purple hue. _

_ "Hello ma'am," Cecily said sweetly. _

_ "Why, hello!" the woman said. "Is this boy your friend?" _

_ "Yes, I am," Will retorted, giving the woman a haughty look. _

_ "Will!" Cecily stomped hard on his foot. "I'm sorry," she apologized to the woman. "He's terribly rude."_

_ The woman laughed. "Oh, that's quite all right," she said. "Just make sure to treat this little girl with the proper manners, sir," she said, only half-stern. Then she tucked the flower into Cecily's hair. "And always, always, _always_, bring her a gift when you see her. She seems like quite a darling."_

_ Cecily beamed winningly up at the woman, who returned it to both of them and then returned to her walk. _

_ "What was that all about?" Will demanded. _

_ Cecily shrugged. "How should I know?"_

_ At last they reached their destination, a small clearing with a pond in the middle. "Wait here, and don't move," Will instructed. Cecily sat down on a rock. Will went searching behind some trees and in the grass. "I found it!" he said delighted. There was some scrabbling, and then Will reappeared. His hands were covering something. "Now close your eyes, and don't peek."_

_ Cecily was not a docile girl. She liked details, and she would get them, one way or another. "Why?" she asked. _

_ "Because!" Will said. "You'll see it soon enough. As soon as you close your eyes, actually."_

_ Still suspicious, Cecily shut her eyes reluctantly. Will moved to her face, checking that they were indeed closed. When he was satisfied, he stepped quietly to the back of her. _

_ Plop! _

_ He opened his hands and dropped the object onto Cecily's head. _

_ She squeeled and jumped up immediately, hands flying to her hair and frantically brushing off whatever had offended her, yelping and dancing about to rid herself of it. Will burst into peals of hysterical laughter, rolling on the ground. _

_ "What was that?" Cecily shrieked. "William Herondale, what in the world was that?" _

_ With an effort, Will pushed himself up to his knees and pointed next to the rock. "Look," he choked out, still laughing raucously. Cecily peered cautiously at the base and gasped. _

_ "You put a frog on my head?" she exclaimed. The brown-black thing hopped away into the woods. "Oh, you horrible trick!" she shouted, jumping Will. "You'll pay for this, you know you will!" _

_ But Will knew Cecily enough to know that she wasn't really angry. They tussled and wrestled around on the ground for a while until they sat up, both breathless and grinning at each other. "That's for drinking the last of the peach juice!" Will cried out gleefully. _

_ Cecily giggled. _

_ In their fun, the children had not noticed the bubbles in the pond that had begun to rise. With a terrific sound, there was a huge _sploosh_. Quite a big amount of water spilled over the pond edges, but not so far to hit them. They watched, perplexed. _

_ Something was coming up from the water. It was dark, Will saw. Dark and huge, with more tentacles on it than he could ever imagine. When all the water finally settled, there was a strange creature eyeing them with curiosity. Will and Cecily retreated backward. _

_ "Wait."_

_ The hair on Will's neck stood up at that. The creature had spoken to them. Cecily shot Will a look. "What…is that?"_

_ "I don't know."_

_ "That! That!" The creature had spoken again, and they whipped their heads back to listen. _

_ "Everyone calls me 'that'. When will they realize that I am not a 'that', but a 'he'?" The creature had a deep, echo-y sort of voice. _

_ "Oh, I'm so sorry," Cecily said quickly. "Please, what is your name?"_

_ "Name? I have no name," the creature said. "I am just a he."_

_ "In that case, I'll call you 'sir'. Would you like that?"_

_ The creature ignored her and instead faced Will. "You're William Herondale, aren't you?" the creature mused. "Yes, I can tell. Those eyes of yours certainly are distinctive…"_

_ "How do you know my name?"_

_ "This is your acquaintance?" the creature went on, not answering Will. "I was watching, observing. You seem to be very good friends." _

_ "What of it?" Will said. _

_ "I hate to do this, William Herondale. But I hate being called a 'that' even more." _

_ The creature's tentacles inched forward, slimy and wet. They were going towards Cecily, who looked at Will. Fright was etched on her face, and she was pale. _

_ "Will," she whispered. _

_ "Come on!" he yelled all of a sudden, grabbing at Cecily's hand and sprinting back down the path, away from the pond. _

_ "You can't last…" the creature said, it's tentacles coming upon them like a horse at a race. One of the black tentacles wrapped itself around Cecily's waist, jerking her out of Will's hold. The speed at which it lashed back almost broke Will's wrist, but as soon as he felt Cecily's hand leaving his, he turned around tore after them. _

_ He was several feet behind though, already having spent some energy on the retreat. He cleared a bend and saw, with horror, that Cecily was back at the water's edge, rising into the air. She looked up at him; her face stark white and tears pouring down her face. "Will!" she screamed. "Will, HELP ME!" _

_ Will put on an extra spurt and finally reached them. He grabbed onto the tentacle that had Cecily and made a snatch for her. He managed to lower her to a position where he was able to brace himself on the ground easily. With a grunt, he pulled with all his might. _

_ The creature was thrashing and shaking like mad, attempting to throw Will off. For several minutes they were even, until one of the other tentacles picked Will up and tossed him into the grass. He was so far away he could barely keep them in view. _

_ "At last," the creature gloated. "A meal at last."_

_ Will scrambled up and ran back. The creature, no the monster, as Will now thought of it, had lifted Cecily high into the air, higher than any man could ever reach. Cecily was still weeping. She was calling out, "Will, Will!" in pure terror. She fought in the monster's grip, but a girl of her age and strength was no match for it. In one swift motion, the tentacle released. The monster's mouth opened wide, and Cecily fell right in. _

_ "NO!" Will shouted. He had reached the clearing at last, but it was too late. The monster had sunk back down into the water. Leaving no trace it had ever been there._

_ Cecily was gone._

_ Will went to the water's edge and looked in, hoping, praying, to see Cecily. _

_ She didn't come up. _

_ Will walked around the clearing, occasionally watching the pond for any sign of movement. _

_ There was none. _

_ "Cecily!" _

_ Although his body knew that she was not in the vicinity, his heart didn't believe it. Will searched the entire for place, well into the afternoon until he wore himself out. _

She's not going to come back_, Will thought to himself. _You're never going to see her again. _Overwhelmed with sadness and grief, and sat down in the grass and put his head in his hand, staring down at the plant. _

_ There was a shining amid the green. _

_ Will reached down and picked it up._

_ It was Cecily's hair clip, having fell out when she was being shook back and forth. _

_ For along time, Will had resisted the burning in the eyes and throat. Those were signals of tears, and he knew it. Will Herondale didn't shed tears, ever! But it was too much. Realization of what just happened crashed down on him, making him cry out in misery and pain. He fell onto his side, cradling the clip to his chest, and wept. _

* * *

**A/N: How was it? Please please please tell me what you thought of it! I'm not very good at writing action scenes :/**

**If you'll notice, I didn't specify if Cecily was Will's sister or friend. Yes, Will calls them friends, but you could always be friends with your sibling. I just didn't want to make her something and then when Clockwork Prince comes out (December, 2011), I find something out and then this part doesn't read very well. However, based on what Cassandra Clare has implied about her through character Q and A's on Twitter (cassieclare, by the way. If you don't' follow her yet, it's time to do so!), I think it's safe to assume that they were one of the two.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm so so so sorry that I haven't updated for such a long time. I've been really busy lately, and something just popped up in my orchestra class, so I need to spend a long time on that. **

**Now to address some things I keep on forgetting to address. Ahem. This story _might _be going on hiatus soon. NO, I won't be discontinuing it, but I want to map out the whole plot before I write more chapters and I forget to add a detail in it or something like that. If I did have one, it wouldn't be until the next chapter I post, and would probably last until mid-June. Another reason for this would be so I could write all the chapters during this time, and I could probably update every day, or at least four or five times a week. Once the hiatus ended, the entire story would be up within a few weeks. **

**Now...damn. I forgot what I was going to say. I'll probably remember in an hour, I'll add it if I do. **

**Please bear with me here! I'll try my best to give you regular updates! To the reviewers, favoriters, and author alert peeps: I love you all, and thank you so much! **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Will jolted upright, panting. Jem started and looked up, frowning slightly. Then his face loosened a bit. "You're up already? You've hardly slept at all."

"Why, what's the hour?" Will asked breathlessly.

"Eight thirty. I wasn't going to wake you until eleven twenty."

"Ah, well." Will swung his legs over the mattress and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ground, unable to rid himself of what he just remembered.

He hadn't dreamed of Cecily for a long time. He thought of her practically everyday, but dreaming was…different. Will jumped up and ran to his trunk. He opened it up and rummaged around. His finger found the catch that sealed off a small, secluded compartment of the trunk that no one else knew of. He flipped it open and felt around until he touched it.

Careful not to bring it into the light, he raised it just enough so he was able to see it. He held the small bundle in his palm, then moved aside the cloth he had wrapped it in. Cecily's clip was revealed, the jeweled flower still glittering as brightly as ever before, twinkling in the light. With a sigh of relief, he held it for a few seconds more and then tucked it safely away in his trunk again.

Will made his way slowly back to his bed. He was still in shock. He reached a hand up and wiped his forehead, which was slightly damp with sweat. "I'm going out for a walk," he muttered.

"But it's almost curfew!" Jem protested.

"I'll be back soon." Will nodded and stepped into the corridor. He climbed down the staircase, pushed open one of the heavy double doors, and strode purposefully into the courtyard. His footsteps echoed slightly on the stone. A slight breeze ruffled his hair, but his heated face welcomed the coolness eagerly.

Standing in the middle of the cloister, Will closed his eyes. _You know, Cecily, you're quite lucky that you're not here. _

And then, quite clearly, he heard another voice.

"I am here, Will."

Will's eyes flew open. "Cecily?" he said hesitantly.

"Go to the fountain."

There was a magnificent white marble fountain in the middle of the courtyard, an angel atop of it. The angel was standing on one toe, the other leg parallel to the ground, its arms held out gracefully, like a ballet dancer's. Water was spewing from the angel's mouth. Below it was a ring of cherubs, each one possessing an innocent and lovable face.

Will ran to the edge of the fountain. "All right, I'm here?"

There was a giggle. "Don't you see me, Will? I'm right here!"

"Where?"

There was an exasperated sound, but playfully so. The air shimmered, and a faint form materialized in front of Will. A young woman stood in front of him, wearing a deep red dress and her hair piled up. She came very close to Will and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Do you see me now?" she asked softly.

"I…I do."

For a moment, they looked at each other, not saying anything. They just soaked each other's presence.

"What are you doing?" Will managed at last. "Why are you here?"

"Are you not happy to see me?"

"No, of course not!" Will corrected himself.

"You wanted to see me," Cecily said. "Didn't you?"

Will didn't answer.

Cecil laughed quietly again. "Still as moody as ever, I see."

"Would you have expected anything different?" Will laid himself along the length of the rim of the fountain. Cecily sat at his feet and looked up to the sky and then back at Will, who had closed his eyes. She sighed. "You ought to see the stars tonight, Will. They're so bright."

There was a moment of silence. Will opened his eyes and stared straight up. "It's a clear night," he murmured. The air was still, the atmosphere serene.

"Someone's coming," Cecily said suddenly. Will sat up, looking around. Sure enough, a slim figure was approaching them rapidly. "I guess I'll be going, then," Cecily said.

"Already?" Will couldn't keep the wistfulness out of his voice.

"You shouldn't worry," Cecily assured him. "I'll see you again soon."

Will nodded slightly. "Good bye until then." Cecily's form glowed and faded from Will's sight. He turned to the person coming toward him. It didn't take him long to discern that it was Garner.

"What are you doing out here?" he demanded.

Will shrugged. "I don't see how it's any of your business, really." He was feeling distinctly angry and annoyed for having his reunion with Cecily cut short, and as was his fashion, didn't bother to conceal the fact.

Garner exhaled. "Fine. I won't pry. You should get to your room. Classes start early tomorrow."

Will strolled right past him, not bothering to spare him a glance. "Better hurry," Garner said. "Someone's come to see you, he's waiting there right now. That's why I've come looking for you."

Will stopped in his tracks. "What do you mean? Who is it?"

"Don't know," Garner said.

His curiosity now taken, Will raced up to his room. He could hear voices coming from inside, low and muffled. Without a moment's hesitation, Will turned the knob and burst through the door.

The mystery person's head turned from where he had been speaking with Jem. Will pulled up and scowled. "What the hell are you doing here, Lightwood?"

Gabriel snorted. "Don't go getting any ideas, Herondale. I didn't think of this, Charlotte told me to. "

"And like you usual, you have failed to pay attention to any of the details. Why exactly are you here?"

"To help with the investigation," Gabriel said. "There weren't enough people on the case, apparently. I was just telling your good friend of my instructions, before you rudely interrupted us. Charlotte realized there wouldn't be any way to convey the things you found here, so that's my job. Jem told me you're off to explore the observatory, so I'll be coming along with you."

Will looked mutinous. "Charlotte decided that you're good enough for a task with such magnitude? Even Henry would be preferable—"

"Oh, shut up," Gabriel said. "I don't like this anymore than you, but we have to do it."

"I'd prefer if you didn't interfere in this case, Lightwood. You don't even know Tessa. Why do you need to be involved in this?"

"Look, it wasn't my decision," Gabriel argued. "If you've got something to complain about, take it up to Charlotte. It was her choice. _As I have already said._"

Will looked to Jem. "Does Jessamine know?"

"Not yet."

"I guess she'll find out when we meet with her," Will said.

* * *

"_Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced and the inconvenience is often considerable."_

_- Jane Austen_

* * *

Tessa kept her hand on the wall, moving slowly so as to not disturb anyone. She hid in the shadows, hoping her dressing gown was dark enough to disguise her in case anyone strolled along. It wasn't until she had almost reached the foyer when she heard voices.

They weren't loud voices, they were soft ones. It was a man's. Tessa followed the sound until she reached the south end of the house, where there was another window. This one had a long sash blocking the glass, but the voices were definitely coming from behind it. With her back to the wall, Tessa stretched out one finger and edged the curtain aside ever so slightly.

There was a flash of red and yellow. In a panic, Tessa let the curtain fall back into place. She took a few calming breaths and reached out again.

Oh, it was Crawford all right. He was seated on the ground, three other bulky men surrounding him. Tessa listened into what they were saying, but there was nothing to hear. The night was silent again, save for the pounding of Tessa's heart. There was some more sound, but they weren't human noises.

Crawford had stood up and was now dancing around the fire, throwing something into the flames. In the brief time that the light caught on the object, Tessa managed to see what it was.

It was a collection of daisies petals, long and white. Tessa wondered what Crawford could possibly gain by burning daisy petals. They were making a loud crackling noise. Tessa had never heard that come from a burning flower before. (Not that Tessa had ever burned a flower…) In a wild turn in his dancing, his entire face was turned toward Tessa's window. His eyes met with hers for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Tessa gasped and retreated from the window hurriedly. She knew she should have run straight back to her room, but she was too scared to even move. Should she look back through the window? Maybe he didn't notice her. But what if he did? And he was coming back to the house right now? She'd be in big trouble if she was discovered spying on them, especially at this hour. Was it worth chancing another peek? Tessa decided it was.

She very nearly screamed.

Crawford's face was right in front of the glass, staring at her with those beady eyes of his. Horrified, Tessa stared back at him, too frightened to do anything. He mouthed something. Tessa shook her head, trying to indicate she didn't understand him. He mouthed the sentence again, but when Tessa still didn't grasp a hold of the message, he motioned to the bottom of the window, and then pointed upwards.

"Oh!" Tessa grabbed the latch and pushed the window up.

"What were you doing?"

"I—I'm not sure, sir," Tessa stammered.

"Obviously you do, or you wouldn't have backed away." His gaze seared into her.

Tessa was mute.

"Well?"

Still, she said nothing.

A cool night gust sailed through the window. It was cold on Tessa's face, but inside she was boiling hot.

Crawford sighed. "You're not going to give me an answer, are you? It seems we have reached a stalemate, then. Close that window and get back to your room. You haven't escaped punishment, mind you. There will be certain repercussions for doing things." He shrugged. "It's really too bad. I had thought about making you do it anyway, but then I decided against it. However, tonight you have changed my mind once more." He reached up and shut the window from the outside.

Back in her room, Tessa went under the covers. _Well,_ she thought bitterly, _that wasn't a total waste of time. _But now it was harder than ever to sleep.

Sure enough, when Tessa rolled out of bed, there were dark shadows under her eyes. She stumbled to the dresser and ran a comb through her hair. Her dress was rumpled, and she was thought, irresistibly, she looked almost as she had the day after her encounter with Will in the attic.

The thought of him made her ache. How long had it been since she'd seen those stunning deep blue eyes or such a fair face? But it was not only Will that she was missing. Jem's calmness and music, Henry's inventions, Charlotte's kindness, and even Jessamine's snootiness. There certainly wasn't a more diverse place than the Institute Tessa had ever been to, and she'd lived in New York City her life.

With a certain amount of trepidation, she went downstairs and into the dining room, where Crawford and his men had already sat down to breakfast. "Sir." She took her place by Crawford's chair.

"Relax," he said smoothly. "You needn't worry about anything."

Tessa didn't a muscle in her body. She didn't want Crawford to know that she had been worrying about what was going to happen the whole night.

* * *

**A/N: A little Tessa coverage. I feel like neglecting her, I really do. I think it's because of my fangirl craziness over Will. Sorry about that. I'll try and get some help for that. ****Once I get some things figured out, I'll be able to post some teasers, if you want them. Gah. Now I feel like I'm copying Cassandra Clare.**

**Please review! Do you like Cecily? It's kinda hard trying to characterize her when we have virtually no information about her. I think I'm making her too...perfect, if you know what I mean. This is what we know about her, from what Cassie said on her Twitter with her character Q and A (these are all addressed to Will):**

**Q: Do you miss Cecily?" A: Every day.**

**Q: If you could tell Cecily one thing, what would it be? A: That I'm sorry.**

**Q: On what occasion, if any, would you NOT lie? A: I wouldn't lie to Cecily.**

**That's it, there was one more, but it was the same as the first one, but with "yes" as the answer. **

**And then one to Cecily~**

**Q: Do you love Will? A: I did.**

**Much thanks Cassie, for making my head explode with questions. I quite appreciate it. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hiatus OVER! After many weeks, here is Chapter 11 of Safe House! Thank you so much for being patient and understanding. With summer now upon me, I'll be able to manage a more normal updating schedule. In the mean time, I hope this chapter makes up for the wait. It's longer than the other ones. I didn't really mean to do that, but it just turned out like that…**

**I deleted the update chapter, FYI. If you didn't read it, it doesn't really matter. It's just what it sounds like. Yeah, it's gone now, so I don't need to worry about renaming the chapter titles. (Since the update chapter was counted as the eleventh chapter. No. This is the eleventh chapter.)**

**Review! Please? Okay, maybe I don't really deserve them after being gone for so long, but I don't have many of them right now :( I know everyone asks for them, but I'm begging. Please please do it, even if it's just one word. Or even a smiley face. I appreciate everything I get. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

The boys waited in a silence until the time came. For some time, Will took pleasure in annoying Gabriel, but then grew bored and retreated to one of his novels. Jem continued on with his violin, while Gabriel paced slowly about the room, sniffing and shooting disdainful looks at Will whenever he caught the other boy's eye.

Presently, Jem took out a pocket watch and checked the time. "We should be heading out now," he announced. "Mustn't forget the glamours, either." After they had finished disguising themselves, they poked the door open and sidled out into the dark hall. They padded down the stairs, keeping their eyes out for Jessamine.

They spotted her behind a pillar in the courtyard. She turned when they were near. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you doing here?" she asked Gabriel. "I don't remember you being told to come along with us." Her voice was level, but wary and cautious just as well.

"On orders from Charlotte," Gabriel said, for what seemed like the tenth time that evening.

Jessamine turned away, her blonde hair hiding her face and whatever expression was on it. "Fine," she said. "Just don't bother me. I'm already losing three hours of sleep by snooping around this school. I'm not in a very good mood, thank you sir."

"Well, it's not like we're not used to that," Will said.

"Can we move on from here?" Jem interrupted quickly.

"Yes, let's," Will said, his mood taking a completely different route. "Lead on, James."

Jem took the head of the line. Although they were hidden, they walked quietly. They reached the door where the observatory lay above. They entered the building and ascended the staircase, Jessamine at a slower pace so as not to ruin her dress.

Will had bounded up the stairs first. He gave a tug at the door. When it didn't budge, he reached into his pocket, searching for his stele.

It wasn't there. Will frowned and checked around him, but it was nowhere to be found. "Damn," he said. "Jem, have you your stele?"

Gabriel stepped forward and produced Will's. "I've got yours here, Herondale," he said. "Charlotte noticed that you left it back at the Institute."

Will took it from him with little grace. He scrawled an open rune on the door and pulled it slightly ajar. The four of them shuffled inside into the gloom. Will lit his witchlight and the room was filled with green. Jessamine sighed.

The observatory was very big, and rounded all the way. A royal purple velvet cover was draped over the largest telescope, which was in the center of the room. Windows were lined along the wall, from the ground all the way up to the ceiling. Smaller, less grand telescopes were standing every few windows. Will examined the closest one. There was a thin pad covering the lens. Will took it off and looked into it.

"Nothing here," he announced. He pointed at the largest one. "Let's try that one, shall we?" He swiveled the small telescope on its rack and left it spinning slowly. With an over exaggerated gesture, Will took hold of the cover by the corner and whisked it off.

A small cloud of dust flew off from the fabric. Jessamine coughed and waved a hand in front of her face. Gabriel scowled at Will, which he ignored. Jem approached the telescope and ran his pale hand over the surface. "This hasn't been used in a long time," he deduced. "It would make sense if this is where Crawford put the next clue. No one would ever find it on accident." He looked through the lens. "There's nothing here. What about on your side, Will?"

Will tilted the telescope lower and felt around. "It's not here, either. Jessie, what about the smaller ones?"

She shook her head. "I didn't see anything."

Gabriel hit a fist on the wall. "Are you sure this is where it's supposed to be?"

"Well…" Jem hesitated. "Not completely, but…"

"_Along your view to the outside world_," Will said. "Do you have any ideas where that could be? I didn't think so."

They stood in a frustrated silence for a long time. "How do we know it's even still here?" Gabriel demanded. "What if someone threw it out? Hasn't it been a while since Crawford came here?"

"It's the only lead we've got," Jessamine said sulkily. "What else are we to do?"

Will leaned against one of the great glass windows, looking into the darkened London streets. It would be nice to escape the stuffiness of Conley Bridge and just get a pint at the Devil Tavern…Will had hardly attended school at all, yet he was already tired of it. _What boring lives the mundanes must live,_ Will thought to himself. _These students, especially. They're like rats in an experiment. Forever trapped in this miserable box. I wonder how many times any of them have been drunk in the last month…_Will sighed and looked up at the moon, thinking.

Something stirred in Will's mind then. He straightened up, frowning. "I don't think the clue has to do with these telescopes," he said slowly. Everyone turned to him. Will looked at his shoes, thinking. "It's…It's…the windows?" He turned around and looked at the glass that had just been supporting him. "_Along your view…along your view…_" Will's voice rose in volume. "Is that it?" He squinted at the left corner of the window. Where glass met wood was a distinct object. Will stretched his arm up and reached for the tiny piece of whiteness that could barely be seen. He wrenched it back and forth, each sliver of the piece working its way out of its prison.

"Careful," Jem breathed. The others seemed to have caught onto what Will was doing. They were now watching him like a cat might watch a mouse that has been cornered.

"A little more…There we go." Will clasped the piece of paper in his hand. It had been folded many times and was bound tightly with a piece of string. Will pulled at one of the loose tendrils and unfolded the paper.

There was writing on it. It was faint, but there. Jem, Jessamine, and Gabriel crowded around Will to read it.

* * *

"_A discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind."_

_- Albert Szent-Gyorgyi _

* * *

Over the next days, Tessa watched Crawford closely. Still nervous after the night of her discovery, she made sure to avoid him unless it was absolutely necessary. For hours at a time, she'd sit on her bed, cooped up in her room. She kept her eyes trained on the door, in case someone was to walk in.

It was unnerving, having to go about her day like this. Crawford didn't act any different, but Tessa couldn't relax. She'd almost rather she receive her punishment.

One night while in bed, Tessa's thoughts drifted away from Crawford, and to the Institute. Were they doing anything to find her? She liked to think they were. Jessamine couldn't have possibly made up a lie about something like this. It's not like she could avoid questioning, anyway_. It's not everyday someone just disappears off the face of the earth_, Tessa thought.

Around four o'clock the next day, Crawford sought her out. "I'd like to speak with you, privately," he said. "Right now. Come with me." With a beckoning finger, he led her not to the dining room (where most of his meetings with people took place), but to one of the larger parlors in the building. Tessa had never been inside of it before, only caught quick glimpses of it.

It was bright and airy, with the afternoon sunlight streaming through the glass windows. The walls were painted a pastel blue, with a handsome fireplace on the opposite side of the room, though it was empty. By the wall with the long windows was a light purple chaise longue, draped over with a lilac blanket. A small cushion tucked away in the corner. Facing the sofa were two velvet seats, embellished with gold trimmings on the legs and arms. In between them was a small table.

"Take a seat," Crawford said. Tessa lowered herself on one of the chairs, Crawford taking the one next to her. He looked at her in the face, but Tessa averted her eyes and studied the carpet pattern instead. Then he leaned back and laughed. "I don't see why you're so tense now, Miss Gray. You have nothing to fear from me."

"How am I supposed to trust you?" Tessa shot back.

"Maybe you shouldn't," Crawford said, "but I haven't done anything to harm you, have I?"

Tessa glared at him.

"I know, I've basically abducted you and I'm keeping you hostage at this strange house. I don't deny it. I really don't. I have a reason though, and it's a good one. The only way I can carry it out is if I get your consent to take part in it."

Tessa crossed her arms. "And what would that be?"

"I can't tell you."

"You can't tell me."

"That's right."

Tessa leaned forward. "Do you really expect me agree to whatever ideas are stirring around in your head without the faintest notion of what they concern? I hardly know you, sir, but I didn't think you to insult my intelligence."

Crawford's lips turned up at the corners slightly. "You are quite an interesting girl, Tessa Gray. However, I can't tell you. I can however tell you this, something that…could sway your opinion." He paused, and then continued. "The sooner I execute the plan, the sooner you can leave. And once you leave, I'll never speak with you again. You'll never hear from me again. I swear it."

"Why does it need to be me?" Tessa muttered. "Out of everyone in England, why does it have to be me?"

"You know Jack Matthews. Do you not? And you're an Eidolon."

Tessa stiffened. "What do those things have to do with you?"

"I was in search of one, and I also happen to know Jack, from old times. You see dear Tessa, I could have used others, but they didn't quite live up to my expectations. Jack was the one I really wanted. But alas! Things do not always going according to plan, do they? Jack unfortunately was not quite as brilliant as I thought him to be, he couldn't even figure out a simple little puzzle I set on him when he was still a boy. Miss Gray, you are all I used to see in him. And I've been observing you. You will succeed in this task I set upon you. You won't fail, like he did."

"You still haven't answered my question. Why would my knowing Jack lead you to kidnap me?"

"You're getting just a bit ahead of me, Miss Gray. Slow down and I will explain.

"Miss Gray, you have been hating me because you really don't understand what is going on. But you shouldn't. In fact, if you are successful in your mission, you will be _reward. _You'll _benefit _from this. I'm being honest. Anything you want, you can have it. You can take from me whatever you want, and then you can scamper off, never to have contact with me.

"The reason that it's nice that you know Jack is well…I want him to see what he could've accomplished, if he had just worked a little harder. He was always the most difficult, always asking questions and whatnot. He couldn't accept the facts black and white, he needed to dig deeper than that. A man like me doesn't deal with that sort of thing. I'm an impatient person. Now I can make him rue the day he ever decided to slack off. He'll be wishing he were back with me. He'll be wishing he never complained. He'll be wishing he never bothered me! He'll-!"

Crawford caught himself midrant. He cleared his throat and smoothed his hair. "That is the gist of it, anyhow. Do you accept?" He held out a hand.

Tessa looked at it. Half of her wanted to decline, but the other half was saying, "_Go! Do it!_" She looked at Crawford, to his hand, and back to Crawford. "Do you accept?" He repeated, his eyes boring into hers. They were pulling her, irresistibly; she was like a fish caught on a line, like bees to a flower, like—

Herself to Will, that night in the attic.

Tessa let her mind free and tried to picture him. The black hair, the strong figure…those blue eyes…dear God, how much she loved those blue eyes…

Tessa cleared her memories and met Crawford's gaze. She put her hand out and shook his.

"I accept."

* * *

**A/N: Did you like? I have the next chapter already written, so it will be up soon! Now click that review button!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: This is short, sorry. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Crawford smiled. "Excellent, really excellent. A wonderful choice, Miss Gray. Now, if you would follow me." He got up and led her to the dining room. From under the tablecloth, he extracted a briefcase, which he unlocked. Inside were many bottles, though each was only a few centimeters tall. They were filled with clear liquid. Crawford took each one out and arranged them on the table.

"Miss Gray. Will you…?"

Tessa drew forward and popped the cork off the nearest bottle. Without hesitation, she downed it. She did this to all of them, expecting each time that something would happen, but nothing did. It was like drinking water. Tessa was relieved, but also surprised. Nevertheless, she dabbed at her mouth lightly and then turned to look up at Crawford.

"Well?"

"That'll be it for today, Miss Gray. It won't be until tomorrow that we'll be able to work on anything. You may go back to your room. Stay there until morning, we won't need you any more today."

Tessa nodded and left. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go along with Crawford…

_ Oh, be rational, Tessa. What else are you supposed to do? Stay here until you die?_

_ Stop being so dramatic. Charlotte's probably working on a rescue mission right now. _

_ Well, it's taking a rather long time, wouldn't you say?_

_ That doesn't mean it's nonexistent! Just wait a few more days._

_ I shouldn't have to put up with this. It's ridiculous._

Tessa went to bed with her brain spinning, arguing with herself. She didn't dream that night. That was strange, as she usually did, but when she woke up, she didn't even realize it.

Her head was throbbing like mad. Even the bright lights of her room made it impossible to open her eyes from the pain. Tessa rested on the mattress, massaging her temples through the waves of her messy brown hair. She considered for a moment falling back asleep and let that be the remedy, but Crawford would be coming up any minute now, anyway. It was pointless to even try.

A stabbing went up her body, making her shudder. It clutched at her heart, and she felt as though it was being squeezed out of her. The beginning pangs didn't hurt so badly, but in a matter of seconds, the pain became so intense it was unbearable. Ignoring the pulsing in her head, Tessa brought her hands to her chest and pushed down as hard as she could, applying pressure. The only thing she succeeded in was making her hands incredibly sore. In pure agony, Tessa jerked on her bed, and rolled onto her stomach, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She pressed herself to the mattress, letting them fall and dampen the pillow.

It was a full hour later before she heard the rapping on her door. "Miss Gray? Are you awake?"

"Unh." Tessa spoke from under the blankets.

There was a moment of pause outside the door. "Miss Gray? How are you feeling?"

Even though her head felt like it was being stuffed with cotton, Tessa knew that Crawford wasn't going to take that as an excuse for taking a break from a day. She threw the covers off, lifting her head. "Sick. Don't say anything, I'm getting up."

"No no, Miss Gray. Stay in bed, if you're feeling ill. Sleep it off, I say. Always works. Do you want a glass of water?"

This was new. Crawford didn't care about her health. Something was definitely working in the man's mind, but Tessa didn't have the heart or the energy to come up with an idea. She fell back onto the cushion and went back to sleep.

It was nearly six o'clock in the evening when Tessa opened her eyes again. The aching in her body had deadened significantly, although she still felt a bit faint. She turned her head to the side and saw a body standing next to her bed. With a violent jolt, she scrambled up to a sitting position and pushed herself against the wall. When she realized who it was, she didn't relax. Crawford was staring at her, his eyes never blinking.

Tessa shuddered.

"Any better?"

Tessa looked up. "Much, thank you," she said monotonously.

"Good," Crawford said abruptly. "Stand up."

Tessa did so. Crawford raised his eyebrows and retreated a few steps. He put a hand on the doorknob. He put the key in it and turned it, locking it. "Open this door, will you? Or at least try to."

Automatically, Tessa walked straight-backed to the door and jerked the knob. When it didn't budge, she held her hand out, palm facing up. "Key, please." Crawford gave it to her. She inserted it into the hole and swung the door open. She turned to glare defiantly at Crawford. Something was wrong, and she knew what it was.

* * *

"_Power is not alluring to pure minds."_

- Thomas Jefferson


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Okay, whoa. What the heck. I went to looking over the last chapter and there isn't any A/N, though I'm positive I wrote one. Well, whatever. Hopefully I'll be able to get one more chapter up this week. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"One of the greatest rulers of England: Elizabeth. She was born in 15_3, in _wich Palace. When she was a child, she joined the _hold of her stepmother, Catherine Parr. Elizabeth's brother reigned for a short time, and soon after his and Lady Jane Grey's deaths, Elizabeth's older sister Mary rose to power. Her time on the throne was short lived, however, and Elizabeth was crowned when she was twenty-five. Under Elizabeth's reign, England prospered. Her prowess on the seas became known, the first colonies in North America being settled at this time. The theatre prospered as well. William Shakespeare wrote plays that are now some of the most famous in the world. Among these are _Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, and A Midsummer Night's Dream. _Along with these dramatic works, he also wrote _ sonnets ."

"Well, what is that supposed to mean?" Jessamine huffed.

"That's obvious, isn't it?" Will said, giving the paper to Jem so he could study it. "We need to find out what goes in all these empty spaces. That's easily solved, I'd say. The library will have books on all this. Should we go now? We've already snuck out."

"We don't need to be skulking around the school anymore than we have," Jem said. "Let's just leave it off for tonight and get on with it tomorrow."

"Fine," Will said in a resigned voice.

The Shadowhunters slipped back down into the courtyard. "I'll be going home now," Gabriel said, turning sharply to face the rest of them. "Tomorrow I'm going to the Institute to inform Charlotte what has been discovered tonight. I'll be back within…five days to see if you've done anything."

"Oh, so you're going to go back to your comfortable house and leave us to do all the work?" Will said. "Typical. Let us solve all the problems while you sit back and sip your chamomile tea. Gabriel, I must say, you never fail to try my patience whenever I talk to you."

"You know what, Herondale? One thing I've never liked about you is how you presume that everyone other than yourself is useless. Do you think that I'm going to do nothing and kick my feet up? Do you have any idea of what you're supposed to do once you've found all this information? No, I don't think you do. So while you research all of this, I'll find out what in God's name what it's supposed mean."

"You do that," Will said shortly. "And while we're on the subject, some things I've never liked about _you_, Gabriel Lightwood, are your pigheadedness, your pompous walk, your lack of style, and your inability to admit that you are a gormless prat."

"You should really think about what you say, Herondale," Gabriel hissed, growing red in the face, "before you end up with a bloody nose."

Will laughed. "Oh, you amuse me, Lightwood, you really do. You might be older than me, but certainly not a better fighter. I could knock you off your feet in two minutes."

"I'd like to see you try."

"I will, if you want."

"Gladly."

Jem stepped swiftly in between them. He looked at both of the young men. Gabriel's face was twisted with fury, while Will maintained a cool expression, the glinting in his eyes the only giveaway that he was cross. "Might you two take a momentary break in your conversation so we can continue? And just a refresher, I'd like to remind everyone here that Will is _underage_. You can settle this debate in a year, but not now. Gabriel, we'll see you back in five days, then."

"Yes." Gabriel swung his greatcoat around and stalked away. Will rolled his eyes.

"All right, let's turn in for the day," Jem sighed. "Will, I don't know about you, but I'm so tired I could fall asleep right here. Good night, Jessamine."

"Yes, have a good sleep, Jessie dear," Will said, smirking.

She made a face at him, thanked them, and then began walking the opposite way to her corridor. Will and Jem returned to their own rooms. Once there, Will pulled out the screen divider and the two boys changed into their nightclothes. They bade each other goodnight, and then Will saw the lamp on Jem's side of the screen dim and then was extinguished.

Will got onto his bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. Now that he was back in the dorm, he was feeling exhausted. He wished Jem hadn't fallen asleep so early. He needed someone to talk to. Tentatively, he spoke into the darkness.

"Cecily?"

Will didn't see her, but heard her just as well.

"You should be asleep," she scolded. "Jem already is."

"Are you spying on people while they're sleeping?" Will accused.

"Don't go lecturing me about my problems," Cecily said. "You've got your own fair share of them, William Herondale."

"As I have been told," Will replied smoothly.

"Tell me, Will. Why exactly have you been creeping around the school?"

"Doing some investigating."

"For what?"

Will hesitated. "Er…"

"Hmm?"

Reluctantly, Will gave a small, condensed summary of what had been happening.

"Who's Tessa?"

"Just some girl."

"'Just some girl'?"

Silence.

"Don't go playing around with her, Will," Cecily warned. "If I know you—"

"I'm not playing around with her," Will said. "Besides, Tessa's not like other girls. She's not one to be reduced to tears so easily. I don't think she's even interested in boys that much."

"I'm just telling you. She might seem strong on the outside, but the female mind is more delicate than you think."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Please do."

A ruffle of air rushed through the room, and Will knew that he was once again by himself.

* * *

"_All days are nights to see till I see thee,_

_And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me."_

_- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 43_

* * *

Crawford told Tessa, "You'll have a day off today. That thing you drank will make you feel a bit sick for a while, so just stay up here and rest."

The girl nodded.

"Good. I'll see you later, then."

He called a meeting in his office. Hansen, Monroe, and Bartlett all came swinging in, big and burly. "Gentlemen, sit." Crawford was in his own tall leather chair behind a polished oak desk. He had dressed up a little for the occasion. His light brown hair was slicked back with pomade and he was wearing a fine new coat with fur trimmings and a gold pocket watch was hanging from his waistcoat. His cronies took the seats that he had placed in front.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you down here. Well, I'd like to inform you that Miss Gray has successfully taken the drink with no harm. The side affects are more severe than I anticipated, but she seems to be taking them into stride. In about…a week in a half we should be able to give her the instructions."

"And that's when the mind altering process starts?" Bartlett asked.

"Not quite," Crawford said. "It's already in the early stages of taking hold, but it won't sit permanently for a few more days. She's going to try to resist, we have to get over that first. It shouldn't take that long, though. I mixed the drink, so that she won't dream. All of her interpretation skills in reading have also been paused also."

"What's that supposed to do?" Monroe inquired.

"Well dreams could trigger memories of…anything. If she remembered something, that wouldn't be the best, would it? If she kept on dreaming, she'd keep on remembering things and have more of these memories in her head. They might snap her out of the charm. Now she _can't _dream, so it's guaranteed she won't and doesn't have any access to anything in the past.

"As for the interpretation part, she'll be able to read things, but won't know what to make of it. That way if she spots something that has to do with the plan, she won't understand it. She'll just brush right over it like it's a list of groceries.

"Now you all need to mind that this does have some drawbacks. She's not going to do everything by herself. Someone will need to wake her up every morning and get ready for the day, same at night. She doesn't need specific instructions; you don't need to tell her, 'Change into your nightgown', she'll do that as long as you tell her 'Get ready for bed'. You three will be in charge of that, telling her to prepare for night and day. Figure that out on your own time. You have to be specific about it, don't forget. Make sure you tell her when to do it, or else she'll be confused.

"Any questions?"

The three men shook their heads.

"Monroe, have you still been keeping the tabs? I want to make sure we don't need to waste any more time on gathering information if the information we have right now is faulty. She hasn't moved residence, has she? She doesn't have any suitors coming to see her?"

"No, sir."

"Of course not. No one would be seeing Anna, would they?" Crawford laughed cruelly. The men in front of him chuckled lightly. "Hansen, tomorrow I'm going to be testing how the drink worked. I want you to watch her, see how well she carries out the tasks I set to her."

"Yes sir."

"Well gentlemen, I believe we can adjourn this meeting for now. Another one will be held at nine o'clock tomorrow night to discuss the developments. Understood?"

They nodded and murmured their agreement.

The next day, Tessa was down at the dining table like normal. There were dark shadows under her eyes, like she hadn't slept, but other than that she didn't look any different. She stood at the edge of the room until Crawford called her.

"Miss Gray, a cup of coffee, if you will."

She took the pot and tipped the drink into Crawford's cup. "Now, please serve us some breakfast."

Tessa went around, giving each man a helping of eggs, a piece of buttered toast, and two apple slices. During this time, she didn't say a word. Crawford was smiling. _It's all going well so far. Time to take it to the next level._ He brushed his nose lightly, making sure Hansen saw. He nodded and took out a pad and a pen. Crawford cleared his throat. "Miss Gray?"

She looked around and came toward him.

"Parts of building are getting a bit disorderly. I want you to clean it, understand? First the parlor, then my office, the kitchen, and the washroom. Then my bedroom and Hansen, Monroe, and Bartlett's. Clean them in that order. Don't skip any, all right?"

"Yes sir."

"You can start after we finish up our meal," Crawford said.

* * *

**A/N: Hope that answers the questions. Yes, I did mean to write Anna instead of Tessa, in case there's some confusion there. It will be explained. Also, just imagine the lined places in the clue are longer. I made them long that in my Word doc and again in the Doc Manager, but they got didn't stay like that, so I don't care.**

**Please continuing reviewing! You are awesome!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: You guys are gonna hate me, but today I'm going to California, so that means no update for a little more than two weeks. I know, I know…right after I make my big return and all. Don't panic quite yet though, I'm 99.99% sure the hotel I'm staying in will have Wi-fi, so if they do, I will be making updates from there. I'm also bringing my laptop with me, so I will be writing. We're driving, so I'm going to have plenty of time. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Will headed towards the library the next evening. It was after the dinner hour, so he had the rest of the night until curfew, about two hours. He cleared a table next to one of the windows that stretched up to the ceiling and down to the floor.

It was storming that night. The lamps seemed to flicker each time a gust of wind rattled the glass. The rain lashed at the windows furiously, and though somewhat loud, created a rhythmic tapping throughout the library, an ambience Will always reveled in.

He had pulled up two other chairs around his table. He was leaning back in his, which was covered in burgundy velvet (like all the rest of the chairs in the library), and had his finely polished shoes up on the seat of the other. He brought his hands together in his lap and closed his eyes, his mind ticking to the sound of the weather outside.

How much time passed he stayed like that, he didn't know, but it was only a short time later before he felt a sharp prod in his shoulder. "Will, wake up."

He opened his eyes and looked around, straight into Jem's silver eyes. Will stretched and sighed. "That was a good rest, Jem. But what took you? I thought you had very punctual time."

"I do," Jem said. "I got held up in the dorm looking for the clue."

Will laughed a little. "Oh that's right, I forgot to tell you I took it when I left." He reached into his pocket and reproduced the little piece of paper. "Here it is."

"Well, as long as you have it," Jem said, making to sit down. "Do you mind?"

Will lifted his feet of the seat. Jem brushed it over and lowered himself into it. Will looked around. "Is Jessamine not coming?"

"She isn't," Jem said. "I bumped into her coming here and she said that she has some sorority event she was invited to. She'll come tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Will said. "Let's get some books."

The boys wandered through the aisles. "We need a book on Shakespeare too," Jem reminded Will. "Probably just one."

"This looks good," Will said, using the step ladder to pull down a thick volume. "Got one for the Virgin?"

"Yes."

They went back to their table. Will brought the oil lamp closer and turning the flame higher. For some time, they didn't speak. They only turned the pages slowly, searching for what might be an answer.

"Here," Jem said slowly. "I found her birth year. 1533. That means…" He turned his head sideways to examine the piece of paper. "A one, five, and second three is already written in. That must mean three is supposed to go in this part." He took up a nib pen on the desk and dipped it into a pot of ink. He carefully wrote in the number in the space and then resumed his search through the book.

The two of them spent a short time filling in the blanks. "That was easy," Will said. "Now what do we do?"

"Well, I think everything that's underlined must have some sort of reason," Jem said. "Let's see…write these down, Will." The other boy grabbed a piece of paper and the pen. "Three, green, house, rose, time, under, 154. You have all that?"

"Yes."

Will and Jem laid their books aside, and stared at the words Will had written.

"Anything…"

Will shook his head. _Who the hell would go to this much trouble, setting up all these puzzles? It's ridiculous. _Will leaned back once more in his seat and stared up at the dark ceiling. "Wonder what Tessa's doing."

Jem looked up from his work and a small smile was on his face. "Worried?"

"Not to much," Will said. "Tessa's smart. If anything, she's probably tearing the house apart."

Will got up and looked around. "Jem, I reckon we've accomplished quite a bit tonight, and quite frankly, I don't feel like doing anymore. If you need me, I'll be over with Mr. Collins."

* * *

"_Books are for people who wish they were somewhere else."_

_- Mark Twain_

* * *

Crawford had given her many places to clean. Tessa was worried that she might not remember the order, but it turns out she seemed to be extra-alert. Each time he said a word, somehow, it was like a machine in her head was automatically storing it away. She felt like she could remember anything.

Tessa opened one of the closets in the corridor and rolled out a cart. There were various cleaning supplies on it, all neatly organized. She rolled it down the hall to the parlor and began her routine of dusting, wiping, and putting away. She pulled the heavy draped apart and hit the dust out from between the folds. She got onto a stool and shined the face of the clock. She brushed the cinders into the fireplace and placed new wood in the center.

The office was next. Tessa was expecting Crawford to be in there, but he wasn't, and Tessa was glad. She'd been feeling uneasy around him lately and preferred not to be in his presence if it could be avoided.

Crawford's office was very elegant. It was colored mostly with browns and dark reds, but very majestically so. There were windows all along the back wall with his fine desk and chair in front of it. There was another fireplace to the side of the room, and a handsome grandfather clock on the other. A number of paintings were hung up throughout the room as well, the subjects staring ahead blankly. Tessa looked up at the one bearing a likeness of what looked like a prince. Then she shivered and ripped her gaze away from it. The darkness of the room made her feel nervous.

"Stop being a baby," she told herself sharply. "Get to work already."

And she did. Tessa would've liked to dust the paintings, but there was no ladder long enough. She doubted that Crawford would go to the trouble to check that miniscule detail anyway. Tessa repacked her cart and left the room.

It took together an hour and a half to clean the kitchen and washroom. Tessa's muscles were sore from the scrubbing she had to do. She flopped down into a chair and rested a moment.

_No no, what do you think you're doing? _A voice shrieked at her. _Get up right now, young lady. Who gave you the permission to shirk your duties?_

Tessa pushed herself up, cursing her brain. _Can't you shut up for one minute? Always scolding, always finding the faults…What's next? The bedrooms. Crawford's first, and then…Bartlett, Hansen, Monroe. No. That's not right. Or is it? Was it Hansen, Bartlett, and then Monroe? Oh, I remember now. It was Monroe, Bartlett, and then Hansen. Yes, that's the correct order. Silly me. _Tessa pushed her cart back into the closet and went upstairs. There would be another one for her use there.

She had never set foot in Crawford's room. Before then, it had been a restricted area. This would be interesting. Tessa knocked on the door and opened it.

It could have been the Queen's bedroom, for all it looked. The four-poster bed was huge, like it could fit at least four people along it, if they lay abreast. It had purple velvet curtains and canopy, which was fringed with gold. The mattress was so high off the ground there was a stepladder next to it with not one or two steps, but three. There was a chandelier at the ceiling, the lights shining down at her. The wallpaper was also purple, also with golden accents. There were a number of sofas strew around the room. The pillows on them were fat and fluffy looking.

Tessa set about with her work. There were, she discovered, many little knick-knacks scattered around the room. Tessa took great care in wiping each one clean of dust and grime, sticking her rag into even the smallest crevices. By the time Tessa was finished with the room, it almost gleamed.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if this is poorly edited, but I was rushed. Probably the crappiest ending too, but I didn't really have time to write a better one. Bad excuse, but it's true. Thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: So, I told you guys that maybe I would be able to update while gone, but unfortunately, that was not the case. First, I asked my dad if I could take my laptop and he says that he's bringing _his, _meaning there would be no point to bring mine. Well, I don't know about you, but I don't like doing my personal writing on someone else's computer, so I didn't. I did write chapters on my phone though, so I did get some work done. **

**As for the trip, it was very busy. I only nearly died while my parents were in Napa Valley tasting wine all day. I did get a great number of souvenirs, which I am happy about. We got back around 9:00 PM last night and i went to sleep around 1:50 AM, having already slept about three hours in the car. Half of this was due to me trying to finish a library book (one that needs to be returned today), but half of it was due to me being a wimp. When I was in Disneyland, I rode The Haunted Mansion a few times, and I'm sorry, the bride in that ride really creeps me out. Very conveniently, that particular ride popped into my head while I was lying in bed when everyone else was asleep. I couldn't stop thinking about it. And to help matters, I have a black cello case standing upright in the middle of the room that I kept thinking was some person watching me. I pretty much jumped out of my skin when I rolled over and saw it. I had to get up and set it down (avoiding looking in the mirrors during the process. I can't look in mirrors at night.) Yup, that's my story. **

**At last, here is my not-so-epic return after 17 long days. Nonetheless, it is nice and long. I wrote it over the course of about three or four days and took me about two-three hours to type. Make sure to read the other A/N at the end of this because I've got a question.**

**Upload date: 7/18/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

"Sir?"

"What is it, Hansen?"

"I'm here to report on Miss Gray."

"Ah." Crawford looked up from a paper he was studying and put down his pen. "How is she?"

"Quite surprisingly, there were almost no issues. She had done everything just as you said up until she got to the bedrooms. She did yours, but when she got to Bartlett's, Monroe's, and mine, she got a bit muddled. The order was completely wrong. However, she did clean them just as satisfactorily as all the other rooms."

"Wonderful," Crawford said. He took a moment to think, to ponder. "Let's do a few more days of this routine. As soon as it really starts to settle in, or it looks like it has, inform me immediately. Dismissed."

Hansen bowed and took his leave. Crawford leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and grinned to himself. This whole process was going very smoothly. Much more smoothly than he had expected. If everything continued on as it had been so far, he might even be able to dish out the instructions sooner. He certainly wouldn't mind doing that.

However, heading to bed later on, he remembered that day when he had first managed to take Miss Gray. She had been with a companion, another Shadowhunter. It had been for the briefest of seconds, but Crawford hadn't forgotten the flash of black runes on that other girl's arm when her sleeve was being rustled and shifted during the tussle. This girl hadn't been eager to leave Miss Gray, either. If she had gone back to seek out help from the other Shadowhunters…

The next day, Crawford did some research. He went through his books and located where the Institute was. He gave Miss Gray his list of chores again, put his hat on, and went out to his carriage. He jumped into the driver's seat, caught up the reins, and cracked them as hard as he could. The horses whinnied loudly and sprang into motion, thundering down the hill and towards London.

* * *

"_You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life."_

_- Winston Churchill_

* * *

Will and Jem were back in the library, waiting for Jessamine to arrive. Students were milling about, going in and out between and the tall shelves. Every time Will saw a girl near their table, he checked for Jessamine's blonde hair, but even when the girl did golden hair, her face didn't match Jessamine's and didn't come close to capturing her haughty look.

Will craned his neck and locked his eyes on the clock hanging on the closest wall. "It' seven-twenty," he said angrily. "She should have been here almost half and hour ago."

Another person came close to them. Will half got up, but sat down when he noticed that it was Stephen Garner. "Damn," he muttered. "It's that prefect." Will shifted his chair so that the back of it was facing Garner, but Jem's silver head was impossible to hide. Garner advanced to them, a smile plastered on his face and a rather sickly, simpering one at that, Will thought. It was enough to make him vomit.

"Hello boys. What are you up to? Doing some studying?"

"Jem, being the more diplomatic of the two, spoke up quickly before Will could answer with a sneering reply. "A little," he said pleasantly. "What about you?"

"I'm here for a nice book."

"Oh?" Will turned around and faced Garner. "And what would that be?" A challenging tone was in his tone.

Garner held out his novel. "_Great Expectations_. You've probably heard of it. By Charles Dickens."

"Oh I've hard of it," Will said, unable to (but not necessarily trying) keep the scorn from drifting into his voice. "Who hasn't? You'd have to be real thick to never had heard of that book."

Jem glanced swiftly between the two of them. Hostility was sinking down again, like snow that was just starting to stick on the sidewalk. Garner had insulted Will's expertise in literature, Jem could tell. _Never,_ he reflected, _act like you know more about a novel than Will._

Garner looked rather taken aback. Jem allowed a small smile. _This fellow is a bit daft,_ he thought to himself. _He still hasn't figured out that Will absolutely detests him. _Out of pity, Jem, decided to steer the conversation out of dangerous waters. "You haven't happened to spot Miss Jessamine around here, have you?" he inquired politely.

Garner's eyebrows contracted. "Miss Jessamine…?"

"The young lady that you met in Headmaster Adlot's office, the first day we came here."

When Garner still had a confused look on his face, Jem prompted, "Surname of Lovelace?"

Garner's eye lit up. "Oh yes, her. No, I haven't seen her since the bell. She's probably in her room at this time. Or perhaps with some of sorority friends, if she's involved with one."

Will stood up. "She better not be," he growled. "Come on, Jem. Let's go find her."

"Hold up there," Garner said. "You're not allowed in the girls' dorms without a prefect, and a girl one, I might add. It's a really strict rule. You've got to have a plausible reason."

Will threw his hands up. "Fine. Care to point on out for us?"

Garner scanned the library. "There. She had a blue bow in her hair, see?"

Will searched the room and then found his target. The bow in her auburn hair stood out like a splash of white pain on a black wall. "All right. What's her name?"

"Sarah Hunter. She's sweet, but one of those girls who just sits quietly in a corner and minds her own business. A real rule follower. Don't expect an easy match," Garner warned.

Without replying, Will moved away. "Don't worry about that," Jem said. Will can convince anyone to do anything he wants. You'll see."

Walking in from the opposite side of the aisle, Will fingered the spine of _Wuthering Heights _and pulled it out, placing it deliberately next to the part of the shelf that housed Mr. Richard Doddridge Blackmore's works. He walked a little bit more and positioned himself next to Sarah, who was still searching the shelf. She seemed to have seen him out of the corner of her eye, though, and gave him a quick glance, presumably just to give this strange boy a small, polite smile and then look away.

Even from where Jem was sitting, he could see that the girl was star struck from the moment she had a full view of Will's face. He suppressed a laugh.

Will looked Sarah straight on, and said in a likable tone, "Good evening."

Sarah opened her mouth. "Good evening," she managed. She looked away, blinking to recover her prefect behavior. But before she could speak again, Will beat her to it.

"How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," came the faint respond.

"Do you come here often?"

"I—I suppose."

"Oh good. Might you be able to help me find something, then?" Will spoke smooth and light.

By now, Sarah was nearly speechless. All this time, she had been staring at Will's face, drinking him in. Her face was pale. Will could have sworn that she was going to fall over, completely senseless. On one hand, he did rather enjoy the worshipful look on her face as she gazed at him (not that he wasn't used to gathering similar looks from young women), but on the other, it wouldn't do any good to anyone if she had to be taken to the infirmary. Will decided to lose a bit of his charisma.

"I said, can you?"

The harder edge to his voice did the trick. Sarah's voice cleared and she said, "I'm sorry. Yes, I can. What is it you're looking for?"

"_Wuthering Heights._"

Sarah went to the "B" section of the shelf. "Hm. That's odd. It should be right here." She patted her hand on the empty rectangle of shelf where the book should have been sitting. She looked up and down the shelf and frowned. "Where is it? I swear I saw it just ten minutes ago."

"No one else came through here, did they?"

"I don't think so…""

Will pretended to push some books aside. "I don't see it."

Sarah continued to look through the shelf; slowly walking closer towards the place Will had slipped it. Finally she came upon it. "Here it is. Someone misplaced it." Sarah pulled the book out and handed it to Will. "There you are."

"Thank you very much."

"Are you new here? I've never seen you before," Sarah said.

"Yes, just transferred. Two of my friends are also here with me."

"Oh. Where did you transfer from?"

"Eton," Wil said randomly.

"Really? That's interesting. What's your name?"

"Will Herondale."

"That's a nice name. I'm Sarah Hunter." She looked behind Will's shoulder. "Do you know him? That boy with the silver hair. I've never seen him, either."

"That's Jem."

"He came from Eton as well?"

"Mm. We've known each other for a long time."

"Is your other friend here?"

"Well, she should be here. You might know her, Jessamine Lovelace. I was going to search for her in the dorms but that other student with the brown hair said I need to go with a female prefect." Will flashed a look at Sarah. "Do you know any?"

"Oh I'm a prefecct," Sarah said. She brought her blouse around and showed Will the badge. "If she's in the dormitories, I can take you."

"Really?" Will feigned surprise. "I'd like that. Can Jem come too?"

Sarah nodded.

"Great. Hold on, let me tell him and I'll be right back." Will walked back to where Jem and Garner were sitting, half hidden by the chairs.

"She said she can do it. Jem, come on. You're not staying here."

"What? All right. I'll see you later," Jem said, addressing Garner.

"Did you mean that?" Will said in undertones as they walked away.

"No, of course not. But it seemed the polite things to do."

Will chortled and then pulled up. "Miss Hunter, this is Mr. Jem Carstairs."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Jem said, bowing.

"Likewise. Shall we go?"

"Let's." Will agreed.

As they crossed the courtyard, Will drew back and motioned for Jem to copy him. "What is it?"

"I told her we came here from Eton. So if she asks any questions about that…"

"Yes, yes, I understand. Why'd you tell her that?"

"She kept on asking me things; it just came to me."

They had walked back under one of the awnings. Sarah pushed open a door and led them inside. The little foyer was more or less identical to the boys' one. The stairs rumbled, and Will looked up.

Jessamine was running down the steps.

"Well," Jem said. Will looked furious. Sarah kept turning her head back and forth between them, confused.

"Is this her?"

"You better have a good reason for this," Will began, ignoring Sarah. "Do you know how long Jem and I have been waiting? Where have you been?"

"I lost track of time," Jessamine said peevishly. "I'm here now, all right?"

Will snorted. "It'd be best if you could keep your appointments in the future. Can we go? We've wasted quite enough time as it is."

The Shadowhunters backed out of the little entryway. Over his shoulder, Will called, "Thanks for your help!"

And the door swung shut.

Jem sighed. "Well done, William."

"What?"

Jem jerked his head towards the door. "One more heart broken, isn't that right?"

Will shrugged. "It's not like I told her I'd be seeing her any other time."

Jem didn't ay anything. They returned back to the library. In whispers, Will and Jem filled Jessamine in on what they had deduced in their previous library session. "Any ideas?" Jem asked.

"Give me that," Jessamie said. She reached over and snatched the piece of paper from Will. Her eyes went side to side as she read it several times, trying to make sense of the various words.

They all had their distinctive ways of showing they were thinking hard. Jessamine stared at the piece of paper, frowning at it. Jem was playing with a pen, twirling it between his fingers while tapping his foot. Will ran his hand along the spine of the book Sarah had assisted him in finding him while muttering the clues under his breath over and over:

"Three, green, house, rose, time, under, 154. Three, green, house, rose, time, under, 154. Three, green, house, rose, time, under, 154. Three, green, house…" Will stopped abruptly. "Three, green, house," he started again and then stopped. "Green, house. Green, house. Greenhouse. Greenhouse!" he said loudly. "That's part of it, greenhouse!"

"What's that?" Jem asked.

"I bet the next clue is in a greenhouse. Look—" He showed them the piece of paper. "Green comes right before house. Greenhouse." Will considered for a moment. "The third greenhouse, actually. Since it's three, green, house."

"That would work as long as we're sure they have greenhouses at this school," Jessamine said. "You should make sure they do before you jump to conclusions."

Will turned to Jem. "Do you know?"

"I'm not sure," Jem admitted. "I'll go ask." He got up and spoke to a student a few desks away. In less than a minute, he was back. "They do. Six, in fact. Good thinking, William."

* * *

**A/N: Any typos, please tell me. My eyes hurt right now and can't edit as well as they usually can. **

**Okay, here is my question. In CA, which room did the Clave meet in when they were talking about infiltrating de Quincy's party? Not the room that Tessa and the others were spying in, but where Charlotte and all the rest of them were. I need it for the next chapter, thanks. Please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Here's a little time with Charlotte and the others. Huzzah! ****I had a fun time describing her. I always like writing descriptions of people, if you don't know. ****Do you think I'm changing POVs too often? Because I find myself looking for quotes all the time now...**

**But on another note, I must be suffering some serious Clockwork Angel withdrawal, because I'm forgetting things about it left and right. Please tell me if I got the horses names right. Fortunately, it's on hold for me at the library, I'm gonna pick it up soon.**

**Upload date: 7/23/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

The ride back into London was wet and miserable, but Crawford hardly paid attention to the rain pelting down on his back. The horses veered to the side of the road a few streets away from the Institute. Crawford splashed down onto the curb, landing right in a dingy puddle. The dirty water washed over his shoes, and Crawford swore. Shaking his feet, he hunched over and walked to the Institute.

The front courtyard was empty. Crawford opened the gate slowly. It sighed softly, as if it hadn't felt the warm touch of a human hand in many years. The place had a lonely essence to it. If Crawford had been a different person, maybe he would have felt sad.

He strolled smartly to the door, rapped on it with his knuckles, and stood back. After a few seconds, he heard footsteps. A few locks were undone and the door opened hesitantly.

In the threshold was a small woman. Very small. She had small hands, small feet, and a small height. Crawford must have been at least a foot taller than her. Her brown hair was in a knot at the nape of her neck, and she was wearing a simple gray dress. The only bit of jewelry on her was a ring on her left hand. She had a kind face, the sort a mother would have, but when she spoke, her voice was firm.

"Yes?"

The woman waited for Crawford to introduce himself.

"Ahh—" Crawford peeked in the small crevice the woman had allowed. "May I come in?"

The woman closed the door even further. A suspicious look was on her face as she asked, "Who are you?"

"I'll explain that, if you'll let me in."

There was a moment where the woman though to herself. The only noise was the raindrops landing on the pavement.

"Will you wait a moment?"

"Certainly."

The door shut again.

* * *

"_The best thing to hold onto in life is each other."_

_- Aurdrey Hepburn_

* * *

Charlotte went back to the library where Henry, Sophie, Gabriel, and Jack were sitting. They had been discussing the details Gabriel had brought back. He'd just arrived and had finished telling them everything a few minutes ago when there was a knocking.

"Who is it?" Sophie asked.

"I don't know him," Charlotte said. "He said he wanted to come in, though. He didn't give his name; he said he would if we let him in."

"Are you going to?" Henry said.

"Should I?"

A hush fell over the room. "I suppose you better," Gabriel said, "if you want to find out who he is."

Charlotte bit her lip. She wasn't comfortable with it, but relented anyway. "All right," she said. "I'll be back." She went into the hall again and opened the front door again. "Welcome," though her voice was not the most inviting.

The man stepped in out of the rain. Charlotte shut the door while the man slapped water off his hat and coat. "Here," Charlotte guided. "We'll sit in the library. There are some other people with me," she added. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all…"

Charlotte entered the library and let the light reveal the man to everyone else. To her shock, the man spoke as soon as he had surveyed the room.

"Hello Jack."

Charlotte turned sharply. "You know him? How?"

The man took a step forward. "I'd recognize his face anywhere. And wouldn't you, I, Jack? Surely you remember me. What times we had together!"

Jack stood up. "Charlotte, step away from that man."

She frowned. "Why?"

"I don't want his filth to rub onto you."

Charlotte looked between the two of them, a slight frown crinkling her forehead. "Who is he? What is going on?"

"Charlotte, that's Alexander Crawford. The man who's got Tessa."

Charlotte whipped her head back around to face him. "Is that true?"

The man walked in the center of the room, not answering her. "You foolish Shadowhunters. You really were more vulnerable than I thought." He sighed. "I've always thought you were the best! The elite! Undefeatable! Well, was I proven wrong! I truly thought that those girls would put up a better fight. Given—" he shrugged—"they are women, but…" He left his sentence hanging. In the silence, Charlotte saw, out of the corner of her eye, Henry slip out of the room.

"Yes, I am Alexander Crawford. You needn't worry about Miss Gray. She's perfectly fine. And you'll be happy to know, she'll be back sooner than you think." Crawford laughed.

"Sir, I demand to know what you've done with her," Charlotte said. "Why did you take her? What does she mean to you?"

"I like to think of women as children," Crawford said, speaking over Charlotte. "People who should be seen and not heard. I really hate questions. Miss Gray is in the process of preparing to perform a little favor for me, that's all. She's doing well, honestly. Worrying would be a silly thing to do. No problems so far." He paused. "I know you are desperately trying to rescue her, but trust me: your attempts are futile. Just know that you shouldn't waste your time. She'll be home safe in no time. If you try to find her, you will fail. I will send things that will make life less than ideal. Thank you for your time. No need to show me out, I can find the way."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room. Henry burst in. "Quick—Charlotte, Gabriel, outside!"

"Henry, what—?"

"If we hurry, we can follow him! He's probably back to the safe house right now! Sophie, Jack, don't let anyone else in."

They nodded, and the Shadowhunters dashed out of the library. Abandoning the usual formalities, Charlotte ran ahead of the men and into the driver's seat. Her husband and Gabriel crowded themselves next to her and got the horses started. "Do you see him?" Gabriel said.

"He's there." Charlotte pointed with a gloved hand towards a man who was just disappearing around the corner. They drove down the street and saw Crawford hoisting himself up as fast as he could. He cracked his own reins and his horses broke into motion. "Don't let him get away!" Charlotte cried.

But just as she said that, a horse and man pulling a load of lumber crossed their path. Charlotte made a noise of frustration. When it passed, Crawford was only a speck. He clearly was driving his horses as fast as they could.

So the chase began. Charlotte, Henry, and Gabriel were able to gain a little speed and catch up a bit, even more so after one Crawford's horses skidded in a puddle. However, in order to not follow his example, Henry was forced to slow their own horses down. For several minutes, this pattern was used, each party gaining some and then losing some. The Shadowhunters stopped for no one. Everyone, even Gabriel, knew that this could be their one and only chance to discover Tessa's location.

After twenty minutes of constant galloping, though, Xanthos and Balios began to weaken. "Come on, keep going!" Henry encouraged them. But even as he spoke, it was obvious they wouldn't be going further for much longer. Charlotte put out a hand and laid it on her husband's arm.

"Henry, leave them be. They're too tired to go any longer."

"What? Charlotte…"

"I know, I know…" she sighed. "We won't be able to reach Tessa today." She looked at the gray sky, raindrops catching on her eyelashes, making her blink. "It was a good thing for Crawford to come, though. We at least know somewhat more about where Tessa is than we did an hour ago."

It was a sullen ride back to the Institute. No one said a word the whole time. When they went back into the church, soaked with rainwater and silent, Jack and Sophie rushed into the foyer to greet them. Their faces fell.

"You…didn't get to her…did you?" Jack said quietly.

Charlotte sighed and shook her head. "Gabriel, you may dry off and then go home, if you wish. I…" She stopped herself before saying, _I suppose you can tell your father about this._ No. That wouldn't do. The Clave already doubted her authority and ability to run the Institute; she didn't want to fuel the fire. "Never mind," she said. "Come back if you learn anything new from the boys and Jessamine."

"Thank you. I will." Gabriel made his way towards the washroom.

"Sophie, come with me. I need to clean up," Charlotte said. The girl behind her, they climbed the staircase and went to her and Henry's room. "A new dress, please?" Sophie complied, and while Charlotte went behind a paper screen to change, the maid hung up her wet one. "I need some help with this fastening," came Charlotte's voice. Sophie went behind the screen and fixed the bustle tightly.

"How does that feel?" Sophie knew and admired the fact that Charlotte wore a corset all day, _every_ day, and didn't want any more pain pressing on her waist than needed.

"It's fine, Sophie."

She curtsied and then once again left Charlotte alone behind the screen. A few more minutes, and then she came out and seated herself at the vanity. Sophie let Charlotte's hair fall loose and limp, and then went on to wring it out with a towel. When she decided that all the moisture possible had been absorbed into the cloth, she ran a comb through the hair and twisted it elegantly into a smooth bun. Charlotte reached back and felt it. She smiled into the mirror and breathed out. "Thank you for the help, Sophie."

* * *

**A/N: Err...OOC for Charlotte, anyone? Gah, I make her ask Sophie for a few favors and suddenly I feel like I'm ripping her character apart. Anyway...hope she isn't. Yes, I made up the part about the corsets, but I figured she's a grown women in the Victorian era, so she'd probably wear 'em that long anyway.**

**Thank you for the reviews! Don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me, especially if you have a lot to say!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: OMG! There's gonna be another Hepburn quote in this chapter! Not Audrey, though, Katharine. She's said some really awesome things. It was actually hard to pick, there were three really good ones. **

**Upload date: 8/4/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"Well." Gabriel stood in front of the three others, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "You say you've figured it out?"

"Was there any doubt that we wouldn't?" Will asked pleasantly, his fingertips pressed together.

"Oh, yes…" Gabriel muttered, pulling seat roughly out and sitting down. "Oh, yes…"

"Jem, you explain it." Will settled more comfortably into his chair. "I don't feel like it." He reached up, stretched his arms and legs, pulled on his fingers, and then pointed one of them towards Gabriel. "Pay attention, you hear?" His voice changed pitch, as if he were speaking to a three-year-old. "It could be a little complicated."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, but as he listened, relaxed. "Now all we need to find out is where in the third greenhouse this clue is. Have you taken a look in it yet?"

"No," Jem said. "There hasn't been time."

"There's time now."

"It's closed," Jessamine said unexpectedly. "The staff doesn't let anyone in there unless it's for class."

"What the hell is a full nursery doing at a school in the first place, that's my question," Will said. "Do they want someone to become the next Mendel by forcing students to have nothing better to do but grow plants?" Will shook his head. "I doubt anyone here is smart enough discover something that extraordinary."

Jem smiled, and looked at his _parabatai_. "Will, they're not spending all day everyday in the greenhouses. Not all the students even have classes anywhere near them. We don't."

"I can always count on you to destroy my point," Will said.

"Back to the subject at hand, if we could?" Gabriel said. "How're you going to get into this greenhouse, then? If you have no reason to go there."

"Have you forgotten who we are?" Will asked incredulously, producing his stele. "A simple unlocking rune will suffice, in my humble opinion."

"I had preferred to go on with this without using any Nephilim abilities," Jem said, "but I suppose we have no other chance."

"No, we don't."

The four of them left their seats and into the courtyard. It was a clean, clear night. The air was crisp, dancing around them in lively intervals. Behind the thin wisps of cloud that reminded Will of worn cotton, the moon was half hiding. Will looked at it and thought he could see a rabbit in it. "Jem, see the rabbit? You like them, don't you?"

Jem followed Will's gaze skyward and considered. "Not sure it's a rabbit, though something's in there. Why do you suppose that some days we see things in the moon and some days we don't?"

"I don't know."

"You probably would if you paid more attention during our history class."

"I pay plenty of attention, James Carstairs. See that there? Looks like Mars."

"Lay off with your stargazing, will you?" Gabriel snapped. "Don't you have any other ways to amuse yourself? Particularly ones that do not involve you talking?"

"Nothing comes to me at the moment."

"All of you just be quiet!" Jessamine said.

"I say, you have been most disagreeable lately, Miss Lovelace," Will said. "No one likes a woman when she is feeing tetchy."

* * *

"_Enemies are so stimulating."_

_- Katharine Hepburn_

* * *

Crawford was relieved when he lost them. He slowed his horses down to a walk and wiped the back of his neck free of rain and sweat. Even under the circumstances, Crawford could feel his body heating up and perspiration beading his face and along his spine. For a while, he had continued to check behind him, just in case the Shadowhunters had reappeared without him realizing it, but each time, he saw nothing and no one out of the ordinary. The rest of the journey back to the safe house was therefore undisturbed.

His men were standing out at the front door; Crawford assumed that they had come out when they heard the horses climbing back up the hill. He gave the reins to Monroe once he had come down from his seat and went inside. The hall smelled strongly of lemon soap. Instead of turning to the left and walking to his office like he normally would have, he went downstairs to where he had a small laboratory and closed the door.

Crawford pulled out a drawer and rummaged around. There were various pieces of scrap metal stored there, collected by him over the last several years from discarded projects. He shined a light in the drawer and felt around, setting pieces he desired on a table.

Crawford spent all night in his lab, tinkering around with his tools. He made several altercations to the small gadget he was piecing together, taking a swig of whiskey every so often to keep himself going. By the time his bottle was empty, Crawford was feeling light headed and woozy, but held up his creation to the light, staring at it with a proud and greedy look on his face.

It looked exactly what a spider would look like if it had been plated with metal. Unlike a real spider however, this contraption could flatten itself completely and could bend into the most bizarre positions. A tiny, admittedly rudimentary, sensor was built into the head of it, able to recognize scents ad take pictures. It was a very rough camera, the pictures taken using it sometimes grainy and hard to decipher. But it was crucial that it worked when Crawford sent it out on its mission. He appropriately called his invention Investigator.

He placed Investigator on the table and stumbled upstairs to where Tessa was sleeping. Her door was open, so Crawford pushed it to the side with a finger and entered. She was sleeping silently. So silently Crawford might have thought her to be dead if he didn't know better. There wasn't any time to waste, though. Crawford squinted in the darkness, searching for the dress Tessa had been wearing the day he spotted her in the park.

It was lying on the back of a chair. From his pocket Crawford extracted a pair of scissors and snipped off a square of the fabric from the sleeve. Putting it away, he slipped out of the room and returned to his lab. He grabbed Investigator and touched the head, which moved under the contact.

Crawford took out the dress sample and wave it in front of Investigator. It made a noise and moved its legs around. "Off you go, then," Crawford told it. Investigator scuttled off the table, up the wall, and out the window.

Crawford clipped the cloth to his notes and tucked it into his drawer. He didn't expect any results for a couple days. Depending on how many individual people's fragrance had been taken in, it could take several days for investigator to find anything useful. Crawford wasn't bothered by it. As long as he got the information he wanted, he was happy.

* * *

**A/N: Crawford's being a creeper. Okay, I think I'll get questions about this, so here's what Investigator does. The part of the dress Crawford took from Tessa was one she had been wearing the day she went with Jessamine to the park. Now, she and Jessamine were walking very close to each other, so some of Jessamine's scent must have rubbed onto Tessa, or her clothes at the very least. Besides that, Tessa was wearing the dress that morning at the institute, where Will and Jem were. While they didn't necessarily touch Tessa, they've been living there for years, giving their scent to the air that Tessa's dress was touching. (I know, it seems weird to say that people have "scents", but think about it: they do.)**

**So Tessa's dress is basically a perfume department, full of a whole bunch of different smells, and each smell belongs to someone. Investigator has the ability to separate each smell and match it to the corresponding owner of that smell, which is what Crawford just sent it out to do. It sensed that perfume department of a dress and is going out to find whom those smells belong to. Once investigator finds the owner, it will take a picture of the person. When it does this for all the different people, it will go back to Crawford.**

**All right, so maybe Crawford's a bit before his time with this thing. Maybe the technology hasn't been discovered yet. But Crawford isn't a normal person, as we know. He fools around with bad stuff. Hope it doesn't bother you too much.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I must be getting into some sort of pattern of using quotes that have some sort of connection. Last time it was from the two legendary Hepburns. Right now I'm on a Victor Hugo rampage. Wallow in his eloquence, like I've been doing for the last two days.**

**Upload date: 8/6/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Gabriel reached the greenhouses first. "Is this one it?" he called over to the others, who were still several paces away. Gabriel himself was looking the glass structure up and down, a skeptical expression crossing his features. The others didn't answer until they had reached him.

"Keep you voice down, will you?" Will hissed. "Of course this is it. Did you think it to be Parliament?"

Gabriel ignored him. Having acquired his confirmation, he whipped out his stele, drew a rune on the door, and pushed it open. They all walked in to the center of the room. Jem closed the door.

The first thing Will noticed was the air. Even though it was night, the air was definitely much warmer and muggier than what he was used to in the street of London. The humidity wasn't bad, but bad enough that Will loosened his tie so that his collar wasn't pressing down on his neck.

The greenhouse itself was fairly small, with only five rows of plants lining the room. There were many pots hanging from the ceiling and walls. Spilled dirt powdered the floor. Near the tables, the earth had been splashed wet from dripping pots. Two high troughs ran against the length of the greenhouse. Flowers with colors of red, yellow, white, and purple were Will, Jem, Jessamine, and Gabriel.

"What do we do now?" Jessamine asked.

"Look here," Will said after turning three-hundred and sixty degrees and sweeping his gaze through the room, "this place is full of roses. Weren't roses mentioned in the clue?"

"I think they were," Jem agreed. "Will, what were those things I told you to write down?"

"Three, green, house, rose, time, under, 154."

"Oh, how simple!" Jessamine realized. "Time means a clock. Where is one? Help me look."

"There," Gabriel said, after a brief pause. His eyes dropped to the table beneath it, "and there are roses there." They all hurried over.

Jem lifted up the pot and looked at the bottom of it. "Nothing on the pot. Perhaps it's in the soil?"

Will snatched up the gloves and dug around in the pot. "I don't think anything's in there," he said, bringing his hand up. He patted the soil down smooth and examined the flower, moving the petals. "No clue here, either."

"What is 154 supposed to mean?" Gabriel asked no one in particular.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Jem said.

Jessamine was frowning up at the clock. "Maybe it's not 'one-hundred fifty-four', but 'one fifty-four'."

"What are you getting at, Jessie?" Will asked.

"Why don't you get up there and get that clock, and then you'll see."

Will did so, standing in between the pots to unhook it from the wall. He passed it down to Jem, who handed it to Jessamine. Will jumped down from the table and went to stand next to her. She turned it over and surveyed the back of it. There was one dial used for adjusting the hands. This little thing was on the plate covering the gears inside of the clock. There was a latch as well. Jessamine pulled on it and removed the plate, exposing the inner workings.

"Look," Will said. "There's something folded between the gears." He reached over and tried to take it, but it was stuck tight in a part that was awkward and hard to navigate through.

"I'm still working on it," Jessamine said. "When they turn, I bet you'll be able to get it then."

She replaced the cover and held the clock up so the boys could see the face. "Tell me when it reads 1:54." Slowly, she began turning the dial.

"Almost there," Jem informed her. "Just a bit more…you're one minute away! There. It's right on it."

Jessamine turned the clock face back to her to check and then pulled the cover off once again. Some of the gears had turned, revealing the piece of paper to be in an easier part of the mechanics. Very carefully, Jessamine reached in and took it out, reading,

"Professor Montgomery teaches Latin and is notorious throughout the students for being a very severe disciplinarian. One tiny shift in your seat could mean hours of extra work, not to mention the suffering of the ruler. Make sure his back is turned when you check his desk for the next clue."

Gabriel chuckled. "That's an easy one to take care of, as long as we use glamours."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Jem decided. "Let's go back up to the school."

"You boys can talk about it tomorrow," Jessamine corrected. "I've had enough of this for a few days. I need some time to take tea with my friends."

Will and Jem exchanged looks. Jem smiled. "I suppose we can let you off," he said. "You've helped us out quite a bit today."

"Who would have thought that Jessamine would be the one to discover the next clue?" Will said leisurely. "At least I can tell myself that you can be acute if you want to be. And now you can put your feet up for all the nice assistance you've given us. '_Thought is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure_.' Isn't that right, Jessie?"

She sniffed in reply. "Just don't go running back to the Institute and tell Charlotte that I've been doing nothing, Gabriel. That goes for all of you."

* * *

"_All of our passions reflect the stars."_

_- Victor Hugo_

* * *

The next day during break, Jem approached one of his classmates and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me. Do you know where Professor Montgomery's classroom is?"

"Professor Montgomery? Oh. Well—er—" The student looked embarrassed as he rubbed his neck. "How to say it—" The student hesitated before going on, "He doesn't teach here anymore."

Jem could tell that wasn't exactly the whole answer. This student obviously knew something else. Judging from the uncomfortable look on his face, though, Jem decided to spare him and went on to a different question. "Is he teaching at a different school? Do you know?"

"No…he—he hasn't been in a classroom for a while."

"Oh? Is he retired?"

"Well, not exactly…"

"Is he just on sick leave?"

"That's one way you could say it…"

"He's ill, then."

The student was struggling on how to say what he wanted to say. "He's on a permanent sick leave," he said finally.

Jem's eyes narrowed slightly. "Permanent? Do you mean—?"

"Yes." The student nodded.

"How?"

The student shrugged. "I don't know. It was something with his heart; it was hurting him. Eventually it overpowered him. He was sixty four, so his body was already beginning to weaken with old age."

"So—so—did the school clean out his classroom? What did they do with all of his possessions? Was he married? Did they give his things to his wife?"

"No, Professor Montgomery was already a widower by then. He does have a son, but I have no idea if they gave him anything."

"This son. Do you know anything about him?"

The student thought. "He was brought up many times in class," the student remembered. "I believe he resides in Scotland now; his wife was from there and couldn't bear to part with the land."

Jem let out a disappointed breath. "Very well. Just one more question. When Professor Montgomery was still alive, what room did he occupy?"

"343. Professor Corbin's room, now."

"Right. Thank you for you help."

Jem ran away to where Will was leaning on a pillar. His eyes were closed. "Will."

"Did you find it?" His eyes remained shut.

"343. But Will, the teacher's dead. I don't know what they did with his things, either."

At that, Will did open his eyes and straightened up on the pillar. "What do we do, then?"

"Might be worthwhile just to see what's in the room, anyway. Let's go now, the teacher might not be there."

It took a few minutes of searching to locate the room, but they did at last. No one was inside. Jem tried the doorknob. Surprising, it was unlocked. They walked in.

Will made for the big desk in the front. He opened some drawers and sifted through the various papers. "Nothing here. Oh wait…what's this?" He picked up a stack of essays and laughed. "Jem, come over here. It's some assignment's he's grading!" Will went through them, his eyes raking over the grade and comments written in the corner.

"Will," Jem chided.

The other boy sighed and put the compositions back where they were. "Anything?"

"Not that I can see."

Will looked about the room and squinted. "Ugh. Look up there, in the corner."

Jem came by to stand next to Will. "What is it?"

"See that disgusting example of a spider? It's a sort of silver color. On the ceiling, see?"

"Come on, Will. Keep looking."

After fifteen minutes, Jem said, "I don't see anything."

"I concur," Will said. "Let's leave before we get caught."

Throughout the day, both Will and Jem asked other students if they knew anything about Professor Montgomery. All of them had similar replies to the original student Jem had interrogated: Short, reluctant, and all of them confirmed the fact that Professor Montgomery had indeed died three years ago and they didn't know what had become of his belongings. Will even went up to another teacher who told him to be quiet and concentrate on his calculations.

Will was becoming moody and silent over this, Jem noticed. He rarely talked when they were in their room at night; he sat on his bed and paged through his endless collection of novels. Sometimes at night, Jem would wake up and see there was still a light on Will's half of the room. He tried to buoy Will's spirits, but this wasn't an easy task to manage. The best way to let Will cope on his own.

* * *

**A/N: Has everyone read "Of Loss"? It's the attic scene from Clockwork Angel from Will's point of view. It's on Cassandra Clare's website, if you haven't read it. I almost died reading it; I love Will so much. Can't wait for the release of Clockwork Prince!**

**By the way, only four more reviews until fifty! Can we reach it with this update? Please and thank you!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I'm back…once again with a late chapter. Three things have been preventing me from finally getting this done. First, I've fallen victim to writer's block again. I just couldn't figure out how to write the next part of the story. Second, my sister is getting ready to apply to colleges and is spending a lot of time on the computer typing up her personal statement. And third, my stupid cello has really been hurting the fingers on my hand, my left pointer. It was actually turning red and all the skin on it is all scraped up, so I put a band-aid on it for a few days, but that didn't help much. Anyway, enough of my trivial problems. **

**Upload date: 8/24/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"Hello again, my pet." Crawford opened the window after he heard a tapping on the glass. Investigator crawled in. "Now let's see what's in here." Crawford touched its head again and the gadget became still. He tinkered around until he had removed the sensor from the head.

Back in his room, Crawford lay on his bed, scanning the pictures. The first were of the Shadowhunters he had confronted before at the Institute. The next few, though, had pictures of people he had never seen. There were two boys and a girl. One of the boys looked very trim, with dark hair and clever eye. The other boy and girl were blonde, the boy having a softer, kinder countenance, the girl haughty and aloof. Although the girl was separate from the boys, it didn't take Crawford long to discern that they had all been in vicinity when they photographs were taken. All he had to do now was figure out where they were.

Crawford reached to the side of him and dug out a magnifying glass. Ignoring the people in the shots, he examined their surroundings. The two boys were in a large room, next to a table with books on it. Raised seats accompanied with long desks were on the other two-thirds of the room. _They're in some sort of classroom, _he thought. Crawford moved the magnifying glass slowly over the photo, until it paused on the chest of one of the boys. He kept it focused on the breast pocket.

"My God…" Crawford straightened up on his pillows. "Is that…? It is! They're at Conley Bridge!" He got out of bed and went down the hall. "Monroe! Get out here this instant!" He heard footsteps and the door opened.

"Sir?"

"Send the Pelmith demon to me at once. I need to have a word."

* * *

"_Take calculated risks. That is quite different from being rash."_

_- George S. Patton_

* * *

"There is nothing more dull then spending my whole day in this prison," Will announced. They were leaving their history lesson and on their way to their next class. "When is Charlotte going to let us go back to the Institute?"

"Probably not until we've figured everything out," Jem said. "Come on, Will, have you forgotten the reason that we're here?"

Will hunched his shoulders. "Don't remind me."

Jem let out a breath. "It's not a crime if you're worried about Tessa, Will," Jem reminded him. "I know you are."

"Worried?" Will looked at Jem, his face set. "Who's worried? I'm not. Tessa can manage."

"I wasn't trying to say that she can't," Jem said.

"Then what _are_ you trying to say?" Will snapped.

Jem stopped his walking, slightly taken aback. Will's eyes were shining brightly. They reminded Jem of the way his own sometimes appeared when he was ill.

Will seemed to have realized his sudden sharpness. His face relaxed and the blue of his irises dimmed back to their usual darkness. "Never mind," he muttered, and began walking again to shrug off the awkwardness. They were among the last to sidle into the room before the professor began to speak.

Jem took out his notes from the previous day and watched the teacher attentively he started his lecture, but Will couldn't even be bothered to raise his head. The professor's monotonous, drawling tones washed over him, blurring to incoherent mumbles. Will could feel Jem's body moving slightly as he wrote. Will moved his gaze to the window, which was to the left of him.

He was staring down into the main courtyard, still and empty. But when classes ended for the day, it was the center of activity in the whole school, students gathering together to enjoy the last few hours of the day with friends. What fun could be had at this place, Will had not the faintest idea. He leaned a little more heavily on the palm his chin was resting on, quite ready to take a short nap. His eyes took one more slow circuit around the vacant yard.

And somewhere in the corner, from behind a stone pillar, there was a flash of movement.

Will lifted his head and squinted. A dark figure peeked out again, then hid itself once again. _Yes,_ Will thought, _something is definitely out there._ He waited a minute longer and it appeared. Will saw a sharp talon protruding from one of the brute's extremities. _That's a demon for sure_. Will had seen enough in his lifetime to know this was no mistake. _What's it doing here?_ He stood up. The students all exclaimed.

"Professor, please excuse us. Mr. Carstairs and I need to take our leave now."

Their instructor turned half-around, a piece of chalk held aloft. "Why?"

"We have urgent business to take care of. Please, sir." He took another glance through the window. Almost half of the demon's body was visible now and was clearly staring in his direction. Quieter, so only Jem could hear, "Look outside."

"You'll need to be more specific than that, Herondale," the professor went on. "I can't let out of class without a plausible reason."

"Sir, believe me. We need to go, _right now_."

"I'm sure whatever it is, it can wait until the end of the lesson," the professor said, facing the board again. "Continuing on—"

Will slammed his hand on the desk. "_Sir, we need to go!" _His voice rose.

"Herondale, sit down. When class if over you'll have all the time you want."

"If you don't let us leave, you're going to regret it, sir. I mean it."

"Stay after class, Herondale. I won't have any impertinence from my students, you hear? I won't have it."

Will let out a frustrated growl. "To hell with you, _professor_. You're not my father, I don't need to follow your directions." With that, he walked down the aisle and out of the door. The teacher ran after him.

"You come back here, Herondale! You get back here this instant!" he shouted.

Jem groaned. He collected his things and went to the door as well. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'll talk to him." He gave a little nod and rushed out the door into the corridor.

"Will!" He looked around and saw him at the end of the passage, walking very fast. Jem broke into a jog until he had caught up. "Will, what do you think you were doing back there? Talking back to the teacher like that? I wouldn't be surprised if you were expelled."

"Oh, who gives a damn about being expelled," Will muttered. "I sure as hell don't. In fact, I would love it if they expelled me. At least I could get away from everything here."

"Will, calm down." Jem put a hand on Will's shoulder and stopped him. "Why'd you want to leave class all of a sudden?"

"Didn't you see it? That demon."

"Yes, I saw it. That's why? Couldn't you have waited at least until class was over? It looked large, but not too hard to take care of."

"Probably, but I needed to get out of that class. Now can we get rid of that thing? It was in the courtyard."

They went up to their room. Will rummaged around in his case and pocketed his weapons. "Jem, do you think you should—"

"I already did," Jem said, as casually as he could. "Let's go."

Back in the courtyard, they stood back to back. There was a small wait, and then they heard something from a little in front of them.

The demon had stepped out from behind the pillar. It was about a foot taller than Will and was covered in black scales that looked like armor. Long, pointy ears stuck out at the side of its head. It had yellow eyes and sharp claws on its hands and feet.

But the odd thing was, other than these features, it looked like a normal human. It had a normal nose, normal arms, and normal legs. There wasn't even a tail coming out of it, nor was there a pair of wings, as far as Will could see.

It opened its mouth. Will felt Jem tense, as if expecting a set of gleaming fangs, but there were none. Even the teeth were the same as a human, only four of them being sharper than the others. Will had never seen a demon of this sort before. It was very unnerving.

Then it spoke, and Will almost jumped.

"Greetings, little Shadowhunters." It had a peculiar voice, raspy and gurgling. It made Will's skin crawl. He held out his seraph blade.

"What do you want, you filthy creature," he snarled.

"Please, lower you weapons," the demon said. "I mean no harm." When neither Will or Jem did so, the demon seemed to sigh. "I come from my master, here on these grounds to relay a message."

"Your master? Is that Crawford? That man who took Tessa? Do you know something about her?" Jem asked.

"Give up, little Shadowhunters. Crawford's project it near its end. You have no way to stop it. He knows that you're scheming to bring him down; it won't work."

"Shut up," Will said, so quietly Jem didn't hear him. "It's people like him and beasts like you that I hate." Will launched forward with his seraph blade.

The demon jumped back, quicker than Will would have thought possible. It backed up and climbed up onto one of the pillars, scurrying up the surface, as fast and nimble as a squirrel in a tree. It landed on the roof and began to run away, cackling madly.

Will gave chase. He hooked his hands onto the low-hanging edge of the roof and hoisted himself up, the only thing enabling him the strength to do so years of training. Once on the roof, he steadied himself and followed the demon. Jem swung himself up next to Will.

The demon had taken refuge behind one of the chimneys. Will and Jem edged themselves close. It looked from behind its brick shield and scowled. "Give up," it said again in that horrible voice. "You can't beat my master."

Together, Will and Jem threw their weapons at the demon. It ducked, and the blades passed harmlessly over its head and into a glass window, which shattered on impact. Will heard someone scream, but that didn't bother him. He grabbed another seraph blade from his belt and advanced on the demon, slashing and hacking until he managed to cut into its chest.

It let out a horrible, gasping sound, black blood spilling out from the deep gouge. In return, the demon swiped out, catching Will on his right shoulder. He fell back, pressing his free hand on his wound, but wasn't about to be deterred. Taking a firmer grip on his seraph blade, he lunged again. The demon leapt backward, laughing. It looked at them a second longer and then bounded away.

"Will?" Jem was at his side, not looking at him, but instead at the demon, whose figure was slowly growing smaller.

"I'll fine," Will said, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Listen, follow that thing. I bet it's going back to the safe house, where Tessa is. It's blood will leave a trail all over the city; I doubt it will be difficult."

"You'll be all right here?"

"I'll be fine," Will repeated. "Someone needs to clean up here." He motioned towards the broken window. "Hurry, or else you'll lose him."

* * *

**A/N: Will's PMSing. BTW, if any nerdfighters are reading this, it's John's birthday! YAY for birthdays! DFTBA, John Green. **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: 20 chapters, yay! (It only took about six months to get here. -.-) I think this is the first chapter from Jem's POV, so...yup. He's fun to write. Microsoft Word apparently doesn't think his name is a word in the English language, so there's a whole bunch of red on the document.**

**Unfortunately, this will be the last chapter before school starts again for me. That would be on the thirtieth. :( Summer has just slipped through my fingers. I'm going to be a freshman this year. In high school. I don't think I can call myself a kid anymore. That's sad. I went to an open house a few days ago, it was cool; I got to reunite with all the friends I haven't seen much of this summer _and_ all the friends I haven't seen in a year because half of my original middle school went to a different middle school for eighth grade (me being a part of that half). In three years, I'm going to have gone to three schools. **

**Anyway, the high school is GINORMOUS. I'm going to be walking around in circles for weeks. ********I'm sort of terrified, which isn't good, because if I panic being a freshman in high school, I'll die being a freshman in college.**

******Upload date: 8/28/11**

******Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

Jem had planned to stay on the roads, but he soon realized that was impossible. The demon was racing along the rooftops at speeds so fast it pushed the energy of Shadowhunters, and it was hard to make out what was a demon and what was a chimney from street level. As soon as he thought he saw a slight break in the demon's quickness, Jem reached up, grabbed at an iron rod that was supporting a lamp, and vaulted onto the roofs as well. Not wasting a second, he whipped around and continued sprinting after his target.

He could feel the stares from pedestrians, gaping up at him with their mouths open. He didn't have time to worry about what the mundanes must be thinking, though. His main object right now was to follow the demon.

They ran so long Jem was afraid he wouldn't be able to find the way back to Conley Bridge. As the minutes ticked by, the buildings around him became less majestic and more modest, a sign Jem knew to mean that more people lived here, instead of working.

At last, they reached the bottom of a large hill. Here, the demon stopped. Jem darted behind a tree in case it turned around, but it didn't. It continued up the hill, Jem following. The demon stopped at the front door and Jem hid behind another tree close by. He sank down into the grass, panting, and then looked to the door. The demon had knocked. Jem saw someone open it, and then heard voices.

"Master, it is done."

"Oh, very good, very good. You were always reliable," the man said. He let the demon in.

Jem brought his head back around and closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to return back to normal as his lungs slowly began to loose the burning sensation that had developed from the running.

When he was feeling all right, Jem stood up and brushed his hands off. He looked around at some of the surrounding buildings. _I need some sort of address._ He walked among the houses until he noticed a letter sitting on the doorstep of one of the houses. He approached it cautiously, in case anyone was watching, and then quickly read the front of the envelope. Jem read it several times and repeated it over and over, so he wouldn't forget it. He kept reciting it all the way back to Conley Bridge.

Jem wondered if Will would be in whichever class they were supposed to be in, but a stop in their room upon his arrival back at school answered the question.

Will was lying on his back on his bed, a hand covering his eyes. "Will!" Jem said, shocked. "What happened? Was there another demon?"

Will moved his hand and looked at Jem with one eye. "Nothing like that," he said simply, and then closed his eye again.

Jem closed the door. "Then why are you here? Is it that wound?"

Will didn't answer. Jem sighed. "Let's see it then." He came over to the side of the bed. Will looked at him again.

"You won't like it," he warned, sitting up.

Jem stared. The bed sheet was dark red, along with Will's shirt and jacket.

"What in the world…? Let me see that cut…" Will shrugged off his now-bloodstained coat and shifted aside his collar.

It was an ugly sight, a dark score cutting across Will's shoulder. Instead of looking like a knife slash, it was as though a deep rut had been burned into the skin. The parts closest to the wound were saturated with blood, more of it coursing steadily out of the opening.

"My God, what is this?" Jem breathed. "Well, hold still. Is there any cloth?"

"Use the coat," Will said, his hand still pressing into his eyes. "It's already useless."

Jem wiped away as much blood as he could. Whenever he cleared one space, more would come leaking out of the wound to replace it. _Best take care of this before it gets infected. _He thought of asking Will why he hadn't done anything, but decided against it. Jem took out his stele and began drawing a healing rune.

At that, Will made a strangled noise from within his throat and his back arched. Immediately, his other hand went to the injury, his entire body shaking. His face was twisted with agony and he kicked away from Jem, a shadow of terror etched on his face. "Will, what're you doing?" Jem demanded. "You don't want to get this thing healed?"

Will's words were tight and barely audible, for his teeth were clamped together from fighting the pain. "Don't—use. Makes—worse—" He showed the hand that he had been suing to apply pressure to Jem. It was covered in blood, even though Jem was positive he had just finished cleaning the wound.

"That's why you couldn't heal yourself."

Will nodded. "Hurt—a—lot—when—I—used—runes."

"We need to get back to the Institute," Jem said, worriedly. "This doesn't look like something we'll be able to get fixed by ourselves. The Silent Brothers should be able to, though." Jem walked around the bed, thinking. "Let's at least get wrap it up," he decided. "Then you can walk around without people staring. That is…" he considered uncertainly, "Will, you _can_ walk, right?"

"Of—course."

"Right. Well, I'll go get some bandages."

Jem got up and left. He walked down the stairs and headed towards the infirmary. He expected the door to be locked, but when he tried it, it opened easily.

The infirmary looked like a sorry place to be confined to when ill or wounded. One lone window was at the end of the room, small and letting in only a bit of light. The metal cots were covered with tightly pulled white sheets and a small pillow. A small, round table sat next to each bed, a cup and lamp on it. There were no paintings on the wall, nothing to brighten the gray drabness.

In the back of the room was another door, which Jem assumed led to the doctor's office. Jem looked in through the window and was relieved to see no one was there. This door was unlocked as well. Jem entered and began searching through the shelves. He discovered many needles and other medical supplies. On the top shelf, though, he found what he was looking for. Taking in the fact that Will would probably need new bandages everyday, Jem snatched four large rolls of gauze off the shelf and hid them in his coat. Then, like a cat, slipped out of the infirmary and returned to his and Will's room.

It took about half an hour to clean Will's injury again and wrap the bandages around his shoulder firmly. There was now a pile of bloodied cloth at the foot of Will's bed. Jem collected it gingerly and managed to dispose of it in one of the larger trashcans in the hall.

The next day, Jem woke up at seven, the normal time he woke up. He changed out of his nightclothes, but as he did so, he was expecting to hear Will begin to wake up as well.

He didn't. In case Will was awake and changing, Jem spoke from behind the screen separating their sides of the room. "Will, are you up?"

Will didn't respond.

"Will?"

Jem compressed the screen to find Will fast asleep. Jem walked over. "Will, get up. We have classes."

Will rolled over and opened his eyes sleepily at Jem. "You can go. I'm not."

"What? Why not?"

"I don't feel like it…"

"Will, you're already in big trouble from yesterday, why dig yourself a deeper hole?"

"Jem, I thought you knew this about me. I don't care."

Jem pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead. "I guess I forgot. So you're just going to lie here for the rest of the day?"

"Pretty much. You can give my greetings to the professors, though, if you want."

But as the teachers already did not think kindly of Will, Jem thought this would be pushing them too much, so he stayed quiet. When asked about Will, he neatly deflected the question and changed the subject. During the lunch break, Jem ate quickly and prepared a tray with a bowl of chicken soup, a buttered roll, a square of chocolate, and a glass of water. Taking care not to spill anything, Jem brought it up to their room.

"Will, I brought some food, in case you were hungry," he said upon coming in. Jem put it on the table next to the bed and sat down. "Better eat it fast, before it gets cold."

"Food? Thanks a lot." Will pushed himself up and began to scarf down the meal. When he finished, he let out a contented sigh. "That was nice." He took a long gulp of water and put it back on the tray. He and Jem talked some and then Jem went back down with the empty tray.

The classes continued, Jem staying silent. When the last lesson was finished, he couldn't help but feel like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Like earlier, he at his dinner and took Will's share up to the room.

As Will cut up a meat pie, Jem said, "Gabriel's going to be coming today. Feel like meeting with him?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you sure? We'll be talking about some important things," Jem said, suddenly realizing he had never told Will about his little adventure.

"Like what?"

"That demon? He went all the way to the safe house; I know where Tessa is."

Will almost choked on his food. "You could have mentioned it!" he accused.

"Sorry, I got distracted!" Jem said, laughing slightly at Will's reaction.

"Well, whatever you tell Lightwood you can tell me," Will said, starting some Yorkshire pudding, "and vice versa. I'll stay here."

"He didn't want to come," Jem informed Gabriel later that night.

"What reason did he give?" Gabriel scoffed.

"None, really, but he's hurt."

"He is?" Gabriel actually sounded surprised. "Why?"

"Crawford sent a demon after us. It got Will's shoulder."

"Didn't he use any runes?"

"We tried, but it's very strange. The runes just make the wound worse. Will said it actually hurts a lot when the runes are used on it." Jem said, "and because of the recent events, I've come to a conclusion: we don't need to be here anymore."

"Why is that?"

"First of all, I don't think Will can get better without the Silent Brothers," Jem said. "The wound bleeds constantly. He didn't even leave our room today. I'm not sure it was because of the bleeding, but it had something to do with the injury. He's in too much pain to move much. He wouldn't ever say it, but I know him better than anyone. Second, we don't need to find out the rest of the clues, since I know where Tessa is now."

"You do?" Gabriel was shocked.

"That demon we were fighting ran all the way back to it. It called the man who answered the door 'master'; that's how he had referred to Crawford when we were fighting it," Jem said.

"All right," Gabriel said. "Charlotte will need to know, of course. I'll tell her tonight."

"You do that," Jem agreed. "Make sure you tell her about Will."

* * *

**A/N: Drool…reading up about English food made me want it sooooo bad! Wish I lived in England. **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: This is a smaller chapter than the previous two, which averaged around 1900 words, not counting my pointless rambling. This one is roughly 1,400 words, so about 500 words less. I feel like you won't mind, though, since I've been very good and have uploaded quite a bit in the last two weeks. **

**If anyone wants to know, my first day of high school was nothing short of exhausting. Going up and down three sets of stairs three times a day is not fun. I only got lost twice, and that was because the teachers gave me crap directions. . Although, I have to say, I think math is going to be hell. Algebra 2, I'm pretty much the only ninth grader in the class that's a girl. There are, I think, two other freshmen, but I'm not friends with them. To be quite frank, most of the class looks like it's filled with idiots. The girl I sat next to for the first two days was cool, though. She's from Germany! I think that's awesome. **

**Upload date: 9/1/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

"You injured one of them?" Crawford asked.

"Master, it was unavoidable. There is no doubt they are skilled. I would have never gotten away without doing it."

"Oh no, I am not blaming you, Pelmith," Crawford said. "In fact, I'm glad you did."

Pelmith nodded as Crawford went on, "You might want to have a chat with the Eidolon. She's wonderful. You'll need to show her the ropes, at least. You know I can't do that. Mind you, it's still early in the process. I don't think the…new features will be showing for at least another two weeks. Once she starts growing, you can see her. I don't want her to be shocked too early. It could harm the form."

"Yes Master, of course Master…" Pelmith said again, nodding. To any other decent person, the amount of sappy adoration in Pelmith's voice would have been enough to make him vomit, but Crawford smiled, soaking the words in. He dismissed the demon and it scuttled away.

Tessa meanwhile, was outside, tending to the vegetable garden. Whoever had been minding the plants before had done a rather poor job: When Tessa first had seen the plot, the leaves of the plants were drooping and starting to wrinkle at the ends. Through her hard work though, they had recently to stand a little taller and regain their vitality.

It was a painful job. Only a few days ago Tessa's back was aching terribly, along with her neck and shoulders. The constant bending over was not helping her cause, either. Her only remedy was a drink Crawford fixed for her whenever the pains began acting up. He assured her it was just because her body wasn't used to the manual labor and that after a few more days it would pass. It was doing good for her health, he told her. Stop now, and she would never get used to it. The best thing was to keep at it.

Exhausted, Tessa put aside her shovel and fell back into the grass surrounding the garden. She looked skyward.

The sun had been setting while she toiled. In front of her was a beautiful fiery red, tinged with yellows and oranges. As she rolled her eyes closer to directly above her, the colors darkened. First to light pink, then purple, and then finally to the dark blue that meant the end of the day. Where she lay, Tessa could just see the stars were starting to appear, twinkling down at her faintly. The moon floated at the tips of the trees next to her.

She compulsively gripped the grass surrounded her. The blue and silver…she remembered something…a vague memory. What was it? It was right there in front of her…slowly fading into a deep pit of loss…

Then a picture entered her frame of mind…two boys…one with a light head, the other dark. She couldn't see their faces…_Who are they? What are their names? I feel like I should know them…_And she actually reached out with her hand, raising her arm straight into the air.

Then she felt another presence. Unwelcome. Stern.

"What exactly are you doing, Miss Gray?" came Crawford's voice. "Not resting, are we?"

"No, of course not, sir!" Tessa stood up and brushed grass off herself. She looked at Crawford, but was trying to make that image return to her…two boys…

"Miss Gray! Are you listening to me?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir!" Tessa blinked, frowned, and focused back on Crawford's disapproving face.

He sighed. "I need new blankets in my room, preferably as soon as possible. The current ones are starting to feel filthy. You'll get them, won't you?"

"Yes, sir…" In a daze, Tessa began to walk back to the house. She looked up at the sky once more, willing to see the two boys again.

As she rummaged around in the Crawford's closet, she couldn't help feel a little sad.

* * *

"_But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold."_

_- Oliver Wendell Holmes_

* * *

"Ah, it's good to be back," Jem sighed after walking into the foyer of the Institute. "I've missed it."

"We've missed you," Henry said, coming suddenly from another room. "Good to see you again, Jem."

"Well, _I_ did not miss this place one bit, nor am I glad to see it again," Jessamine said stoutly, dropping her satchel onto a nearby table and rolling in her case next. "I thought I might be able to learn how to be a proper young lady, but no. The boys have to turn into heroes and fight off some sick demon and chase it halfway out of the city." She sat down on the staircase with a huff.

"We're glad to have you back, Jessie," Henry said.

Charlotte descended the staircase, looking worn out. "Will's fine," she said before Jem spoke up. "The Brother Enoch is seeing in on him right now. He was falling asleep when I left." She sighed. "Henry, darling, can you help Jem with his trunk? Jessamine and I will take her things up to her room." Charlotte took hold of the one of the handles on Jessamine's case, Jessamine the other, and began walking up the staircase again. Henry and Jem did the same and followed them. The groups split at the landing.

"How was the school?" Henry asked as they placed Jem's trunk at the foot of his bed.

"I didn't think it was too horrible," Jem said, "although I'd say Will had more than his fair share of troubles."

"Ah, well…he wouldn't quite be Will unless he upset a few people, eh?" Henry said, smiling.

"I'm just glad we were able to leave before we had to bear the shame of being expelled. The way things were going, it looked all too clear that was going to be in the very near future," Jem admitted.

After dinner, Charlotte and Jem went up to Will's room. Charlotte told Jem that Will wasn't in any state fit to talk, so they came to a mutual agreement to peek into his room and then leave.

"He…isn't doing the best," Charlotte warned as they came closer to Will's room. The door was slightly ajar, letting a thin ribbon of soft yellow trail out into the hall. Charlotte nudged it open with a knuckle.

Will's eyes weren't looking at them. They were staring up at the ceiling, blank and transfixed on a point somewhere quite beyond the room. His face was pale and sweaty. It had thinned significantly in the few hours that they had returned. He was trembling violently, despite being under a thick layer of blankets. His mouth was slightly open.

As they watched, Will raised himself up into a sitting position. Even this simple action looked as though it took a great effort on his body, which was shaking harder than ever. With a wavering hand, he reached to the bedside table and took a glass of water. He put it to his lips and managed to trickle a little into his mouth before attempting to replace it on the table. There was a shattering noise, and then the tinkling noise of shards of glass falling to the floor.

It was the worst state Jem had ever seen Will in.

Charlotte gestured for them to retreat.

"What's gotten into him?" Jem said, almost angry. "He wasn't like this in the morning."

"I don't know," Charlotte said helplessly. "Brother Enoch says this is all normal."

"And Brother Enoch has dealt with an injury like this before?"

"I suppose he must have," Charlotte guessed. She exhaled. "Jem, I know you're worried, but try not to that much. Will's never put down for long." Jem felt a small weight on his shoulder when Charlotte rested her hand there momentarily before leaving Jem alone in the dark.

He went back to the door and looked through the door again. The splinters of glass still lay where they had dropped. One sharp piece reflected the muted light from the lamp and glared back at Jem, making him squint. Will still stared into nothingness, as white and noiseless as a corpse.

As quietly as he could, Jem backed away and closed the door.

* * *

**A/N: Hm. Not a happy chapter. I think it has to do with me listening to a piano cover of Due Tramonti while I was writing. ****Poor Jem, he's all worried about Will :(**

**Anyone else realize the date? September first? I SHOULD BE AT HOGWARTS! Pottermore hasn't sent my welcome email yet.**

**Yesterday was August 31. RIP, Princess Diana. **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: A bit of a updating gap, sorry…That's probably how it's going to be for a few months. I feel I should at least tell you there won't be any updates right after each other. At best, it would be once a week, but even that'll be rare. So that's my thing. I'll try to make it up with good content. **

**Upload date: 9/11/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Jem pushed the door open and pulled his chair up to the side of the bed, like he always did in the evening after he ate. "Hello, Will. You look better."

No answer came, but Jem tried not to worry. After all, Will's condition _did _seem to be improving: a brush of color touching his cheeks and he could sit up normally without any help. Still, he was delirious and couldn't recognize anyone. Sometimes when passing Will's room, Jem heard him mumbling nonsense, and then soon after, there would usually be smashing noise as Will knocked something over. Not being isolated was vital to his recovery, though, so Jem always went up to his room after dinner.

Will looked at him, blankly. It was discerning, seeing Will's face without expression. There was always some emotion shown on his countenance, whether it was boredom, thrill, or annoyance. But now, he had the same, slightly confused, appearance that a child might have when learning how to multiply two numbers together.

Shrugging off his discomfort, Jem began again in a light tone, "I brought another book," he said, holding it up for Will to see. Will put out his hand and Jem gave it to him. Will stared at the cover for several seconds before returning his gaze to Jem, who explained, "_Great Expectations_, Charles Dickens." This was also strange, having to tell Will the titles of novels he had read countless times.

Jem shifted slightly his seat. "It's one of your favorites. Feel like reading some? You always do at night."

Will hesitated, and then placed the book on his bedside table. There were a number of other volumes stacked high, the results of Jem's previous attempts to get Will to rediscover his love for reading. Hiding his disappointment for what seemed like the hundredth time, Jem stood up and took the stack, leaving _Great Expectations_. "I'll take these back to the library, if you're done with them. I'll be right back."

He went as fast as he could, but when he was done filing the books into their proper section of the shelf, he sat down on one of the chairs by the window and rubbed his face. It seemed like nothing could elicit any sound from Will. Chocolate and alcohol had been denied. The Institute hadn't heard his voice his days. Any other day, Jem would have joked that it was a relief, but when Will's health was unstable, it was a different story.

Rain fell the next day. Jem brought another stack of books up to Will's room, determined to get him to remember something.

Charlotte was in the room when Jem arrived, along with Brother Enoch, who was bending over Will.

"Charlotte?"

"Jem! I'm sorry; you'll have to wait until tomorrow to talk to Will. Brother Enoch is giving him medicine right now."

Jem looked around Charlotte. "It doesn't seem to be doing him any good," he said, skeptically.

"It is," Charlotte insisted.

"I haven't seen any improvement."

"It's a delicate process," Charlotte softly. "Just…just hope that he'll get through it."

That one word, and something clicked within Jem. His eyes widened. "It's come down to _hope_? Do you realize what you just told me? When you have to hope for something that means that you can't be sure of the outcome. A lot of the time, the only reason you're hoping is so that you can give yourself that tiny bit of possibility, even though deep down, you know it's not going to turn out in your favor. You don't want to crush yourself prematurely by admitting to inevitable, so you keep hanging on to that tiny bit of faith. You just told me Will's going to die."

"Jem, I didn't say that!" Charlotte exclaimed, startled.

"Will's my _parabatai_," Jem said, low and fierce, "and the closest friend I have in the world. If he dies, I'm not going to forget it. What do you expect me to do?"

"I don't want Will to die anymore than you, Jem."

"Then why are you giving up on him already?" Jem demanded. He clenched his fists. "When I came here and was ill for the first time, you were willing to do anything to ensure my life. Why won't you do the same for Will?"

"Please, please, Jem, try to understand!" Charlotte pleaded. "Brother Enoch is doing everything he can, and so am I! How could you think that I wasn't?" She looked at Jem with sad eyes, and he felt a moment of regret. "I haven't given up on Will, I promise. Even so…" Charlotte looked down, lowering her gaze. "I can't deny the fact that his condition is still uncertain."

Jem was silent. "I'll leave you to it, then," he said finally. He gave his books over to Charlotte. "Put these by the bed."

"Jem…"

"I'll see you at lunch."

He didn't exactly stalk out of the room, but there was a definite mood of tense anger in his stride. Jem closed the door and leaned on it, taking several deep breaths.

Was this the end? Was Will really going to die? Jem had never once thought that Will would die before he did. Jem always thought he'd be the first one to go. All of a sudden, Jem began to experience what Will must have experienced anytime Jem was sick.

Fright. Worry. Anxiety. Terror. Dread.

What did a person do when so much was going on? He still needed to focus on somehow getting Tessa back to the Institute, but with Will's health, it was hard to. Jem drove his hands into his eyes when he heard a voice.

"It's no good, sitting around pouting."

Jem lowered his palms and looked around. Jessamine was standing in front of him, her face half in shadow, arms crossed. She gestured with her head at the door.

"How is he?"

"Not good."

"Hmph. I thought as much. So, he's going to die, then?"

Jem stared at her. Jessamine had spoken in such casual tones. He became more guarded. "Does it matter to you at all? You don't seem you'd be very sad if he did."

Jessamine stayed quiet and studied him. "I just wanted to know," she brushed off. "Everyone knows you're tearing yourself apart over this, Jem. It's so obvious. Even a baby would realize something wasn't right."

"What's your point?" Jem said dully.

"You have other problems on your hands," Jessamine said. "Aren't you supposed to be putting some sort of plan to rescue Tessa?"

"_We _have other problems. It's no just me who's working on this, Jessie. You're a Shadowhunter too," Jem reminded her. "That means you should be helping too. I know you're smart. You don't need Charlotte, Henry, or me to spoon-feed you everything."

Again, Jessamine took a while before answering, rather reluctantly, "I know I have to do my part. I just wanted to tell you that you can't forget it. The maps you draw up and the plans you think of probably won't be very effective if you're thinking about Will half of the time."

"Will's my _parabatai_, Jessamine," Jem said for the second time in less than ten minutes. "You don't have one. You wouldn't understand how I'm feeling right now."

"You're right. I don't understand. But leaving everyone else hanging isn't what you should be doing either."

* * *

"_You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club."_

_- Jack London_

* * *

Something was being spilled into Will's mouth, something incredibly bitter. He gagged and moved his mouth away from the source, but it followed. It was a powder on a piece of paper. Will felt a mound of it fall into his mouth. A wet cloth was going over his face, deliciously cool against his burning skin. Hands touched his face, neck, and then injured shoulder. Will winced.

_Will, what did you do? _He heard someone say. A girl was standing next to the man who was nearest to him. She was looking at him, a forlorn expression on her face. Her eyes were downcast and sorrowful. She was wearing a long, flowy white dress that had a flower just above her breast. _I don't like seeing you like this,_ he heard her say. Something was familiar about her, but he didn't know what. He thought he should know exactly who she is.

As he stared at her, her face changed. _You…you don't even remember me, Will? _Her already downcast face turned even more doleful. She stepped past the man and sat down on the bed, though Will felt no extra burden on the blankets. He continued to stare at the girl. She was very beautiful, Will thought. With the light shining on her and her white gown, she looked like an angel, descending from Heaven.

Still with the mournful look on her face, the girl said, _Will you sleep for me?_

The girl leaned over to him and put her hand over his eyes. The touch was gentle, and Will relaxed. This girl, whoever she was, had a nice, pleasant air about her. Calm and serene. It was easy to fall asleep when he knew she wanted him to.

* * *

**A/N: Just in case there's confusion, Cecily (the girl ^) won't be a main character in the story. From what I know about her, she remind's Will about something bad in his past, so I thought it would be sort of natural for her to appear to Will during times of distress. That's the only time he sees her, and only Will can. No one else knows she's there. She can touch things, and Will can touch her, but no one else can. **

**Other note: Today's the tenth anniversary of 9/11. Peace and love to everyone affected by the attacks. Never forget. 3**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Hey everyone. - Notice the period? Lack of exclamation point, which I would normally use? Well, I'm currently suffering from a bit of emotional crisis. First of all: any tennis fans, this year's US Open was not my favorite. Williams lost for women's finals, and then Nadal lost for men's. I suppose I'm all right with Williams' loss, but I wanted Nadal to win **_**so **_**much and…he didn't. TT_TT **

**Then I got my Pottermore email! I was all happy, and then I got sorted. Into Hufflepuff. Which crushed me. I wanted to get into Ravenclaw. Any fellow Hufflepuffs, please console me. I'm at a loss as to what to do with my life. Thanks. **

* * *

"Mmph." Will let out a muffled noise. His eyes still closed, he felt around. The covers were pulled up to his chin. The sheets were rumpled, having not been changed for several days. His mouth felt full of cotton, spider webs being sewn in the back of his brain. The pain in his shoulder had been vanished, to be replaced with a numbing sensation. It felt like his eyelids were glued shut. Will tried several times before successfully opening them. They were very heavy with sleep. The bright light forced him to close them again, before he faced it and squinted until he was used to it.

Will rubbed a hand over his eyes, clearing the stickiness from them. He pushed himself up onto the pillows and shook his head. Bringing a hand up, Will could feel his hair was severely ruffled from his slumber. He looked around the room and had a shock.

Cecily was sitting by the bed, watching him. She was leaning on her arm, which was resting on a little tea table. Her mouth was closed, and she was gazing at him with a neutral expression on her face. As usual, whenever Will saw her nowadays, her form was faint and slightly shimmery.

"Cecily. What—"

"Do you always have to have that bemused expression etched upon your face whenever you see me?" She stayed where she was in her seat, but she shifted slightly and a light smile tugged at her lips. "It rather makes me feel like some new science experiment."

"You've been here a long time," Will guessed.

Cecily shrugged. "A few hours. Maybe five or six."

"But—" Will was struggling to put a sentence together. Why did this always happen whenever she appeared to him? "But why? No one told you—"

"Oh Will," Cecily sighed, "you ought to think a little harder. Something told me you weren't feeling quite right. I wanted to see."

Will frowned, remembering something before the darkness took him. "I saw you before I fell asleep just now." He looked swiftly in her direction. "You were there then? Did I look at you?"

Cecily's face was unreadable. "Yes, you did. I spoke with you, a little."

"What about?"

"Not much. I asked you if you knew who I was."

"And…"

"You didn't." Cecily spoke without a trace of resentment, which Will was grateful for, even if he felt a little ashamed inside. _How could I? _

"Well…I'm sorry I didn't remember you. You know I wouldn't—"

"No worries, Will," Cecily said. He calmed when he heard his name being carried on her breath. His eyes wandered to the left of her and noticed the tea table her elbow was on. A chessboard was there, the position of numerous pieces scattered across the squares. From the few pieces of each color that were set aside off the board, it was clear that whoever had been playing was halfway through a game. Will offered the board a ghost of a smile.

"Whom were you playing?" he asked.

"It was me…" Cecily moved forward her white rook, "against you." She captured the second bishop.

"I would never let you overtake me so easily," Will said, eyeing the captured black pieces.

"I'm quite sure you would," Cecily said. "You might be skilled at many things, William, but I don't think chess was ever your strong suit. I've played you enough times to know exactly what moves you would make if you had been awake." Cecily turned the board around and considered it. She moved a knight and then returned to her own side. "That's checkmate," she said, pushing her queen to the next square.

"Hold on there," Will protested. He slapped his hand down on the board. "There's no way I would ever lose that easily. If I had truly been playing, I would have take the game in ten minutes."

"Well, as it seems," Cecily said, "you _weren't _awake. If you want to win, why don't you fight a little harder and not get caught in the arms of Morpheus?"

* * *

_"It takes two to quarrel, but only one to end it."_

_- Matthew Prior_

* * *

Tessa had long since forgotten about the boys. She had been thinking about them for so long, she was distracted whenever she did her work. Crawford put an end to that, making her drink the special liquid he seemed to always have on hand. It gave her a strange trembling feel whenever she swallowed it and ended up feeling awkward and uncomfortable with herself. She felt like she was going back in time four years, when she was first beginning to undergo the physical changes of growing up. She pulled herself out of bed, feeling sluggish and slow. Dressing into her uniform, she blinked sleepily into the mirror. She looked into the glass, staring at the image she had now become used to.

Her skin was a sickly purple, blistering on her neck and shoulders. Tessa brought her hands up and felt them, cautiously. Her hands, too, had swelled and had similar coloring. The corners of her ears were sharper. She touched one, giving herself a shock she felt a scrap on her lower neck. Tessa whisked her hand back down. Nails resembling talons had sprouted out from the ends of her fingers. She still hadn't remembered how sharp her nails were.

Today she had an appointment. It wasn't anything fancy, just a small meeting. For some reason, Crawford had been thrilled when he first saw Tessa in her new "form" and said he would have her meet someone else who was like her.

She headed downstairs. Her eyes narrowed a little when she saw Crawford start the tiniest bit when he saw her. So he wasn't quite used to her new look yet. He acted like it didn't happen, though, and said, "Good morning. Are you ready? Your guest is in the sitting room right now."

With Crawford at her side, Tessa walked down the hall. As they entered, Crawford said, "The Pelmith, Miss Gray."

"Hello—" Tessa stopped dead as the person turned toward her.

It looked like Tessa was staring at an older image of her current self. Pointier ears, covered in black, reptile-like scales all over the skin and sharp, long nails. He was tall, too, taller than any person Tessa had ever seen.

"Strange, isn't it?" the Pelmith said. His voice was queer. Hollow and dead-sounding. He didn't seem even the slightest bit offended or surprised at her reaction to seeing him. "I hope you don't find it too repulsive. You'll need to live with as well."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't you know?"

"No, no I don't."

"Miss Gray, this is what you will become."

"What do you mean?" Tessa asked after a lengthy pause.

"I am the Pelmith demon," he said. "You are a developing one. Can't you see the similarities?"

"I'm going to be one of you."

"Yes."

Tessa was quiet. "You." She turned, at last, to Crawford. "This is because of you. Those—those things you always had me drink." There was no accusing tone in her voice, only a statement.

Crawford leaned forward a little. "Do you mind?"

Tessa thought, but nothing came to her. Anything she might have felt a month ago had been swept out of her mind. "No."

He sighed. "Good. Miss Gray, normally you would, but the reason you don't is because you are a demon. The Pelmith is devoid of all emotions and feelings. It's why you're perfect for my little task I have for you."

"Why you took me in the first place."

"Yes."

"Well, continue. I'd like to get the truth." Tessa spoke in a monotone voice, like she was bored.

"This…demon-phasing potion will only work on an Eidolon, such as yourself. The Pelmith here, he was not one. You might not be able to tell, but the full effects of the potion never showed themselves on the Pelmith. If it were truly to work, the demon would not speak, only obey. Clearly, that wasn't the case. However, The Pelmith has become a dear companion, and I don't regret him not being able to fully embrace the potion.

"You see, the Pelmith is very useful in performing chores I would rather not do. Chores I've been having you do; I thought he should get a lengthy break for being so helpful. Before I found you, I had him to extensive research on what it would take for the potion to work correctly. I worked on it constantly, but nothing seemed to click. The Pelmith examined it and told me it wasn't the potion's fault, it was the drinker. He deduced only the Eidolon would be able to fully take on the effects. They're used to taking on different forms with ease. I had the Pelmith find you, and then I fetched you. Follow me?"

* * *

**A/N: Some people have been wanting more Tessa, so there you go. You'll see her again in the next chapter, but the one after that, I can't promise anything. To all the lucky people who have one Clockwork Prince ARCs over the last week, I envy you. So much. **

**Sorry chapters are shorter, but I don't want to keep you all waiting so long. Would you rather have longer chapters and longer wait, or shorter chapters and shorter wait? **

**The first author's note was written around 9/13, 9/14. This one is being written 9/19 (Happy birthday Hermione! Happy anniversary, Hank and Katherine!), and I've gotten over Nadal's lost, though I've become obsessed with rewatching some of his best moments on YouTube. I've also gotten over being in Hufflepuff, by thinking about all the good things it has. Pottermore was all right, boring sometimes, though the extra content was awesome. Finished Sorcerer's Stone (or, if you are from the UK, Philosopher's Stone) two days ago. I want Chamber of Secrets! I love Tom Riddle! **

**(But not Voldy.)**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: New chapter! It would have been longer, but the part I wanted to add would have made the chapter so long you'd probably have to wait another two weeks for me sort it all out, so it'll be in the next update. Sorry if this chapter is poorly edited, I've been working on it for literally three and a half hours, so my eyes are a little burned out. **

**Upload date: 10/2/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

Tessa nodded. "Keep going."

Crawford reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny glass bottle. He shook the clear liquid inside so it sloshed against the sides. "You recognize this, Miss Gray? You ought to. This is what I've been giving you so often. This is what has made you look so…demonic. In less than a week, the full transformation will be complete. All the emotional effects have already been locked away; that's easy to tell. It's really just the physical form that needs the developing. When you're completely grown, the Pelmith will take over with further training."

"Training? What for?"

Crawford offered a wry smile. "You don't think I'm going to let you go out into the city, when you have no control over yourself, do you? You're going to be growing claws; your speed will increase. You need to know how to use them effectively."

"It shouldn't take long," the Pelmith told her. "What with how easily you've adapted. Even under my circumstance, it only took two weeks. That's a very short time. It doesn't seem like it, but it is."

Tessa sighed. "Very well. Would you mind telling me why exactly you've created this new breed of demon?"

Crawford and the Pelmith exchanged looks. "Not today, Miss Gray," Crawford said lightly. "It's not the right time. You will find out, though, in due time. You may go now. Get the bedrooms cleaned up, will you?"

Tessa stood and left the room to prepare her supplies.

"She's an interesting one, don't you think?" the Pelmith said. "So controlled. Good choice."

"Well, it was fortunate that I was able to find her," Craford said. "She should be fine. There won't be any trouble for her."

* * *

"_The longer we dwell on our misfortunes the greater is their power to harm us."_

_- Voltaire_

* * *

Tessa walked down the hall, quite unconcerned with what she had just heard. Crawford needed her for a little favor. What was the harm in that? She'd help him and than she could go home.

Wherever that was…

* * *

_"To live a creative life we must lose our fear of being wrong."_

_- Joseph Chilton Pearce_

* * *

Brother Enoch and Charlotte came in. Charlotte nearly fell over in a state of shock when she entered Will's room and saw him sitting up in his bed, wide awake.

"Will!" she gasped. "You're up!"

He waved a hand. "Quite."

Brother Enoch approached his bed and felt around, applying pressure at some places. Charlotte stared, dumbfounded. Will grinned at her reaction.

"Thought I was a goner, did you?"

Charlotte gathered herself. "Everyone will be happy you're healthy again," she said. "I'll fetch Jem, shall I?"

"That would be nice."

Brother Enoch went with her, apparently satisfied with Will's state. It was a few minutes before Will heard a knock and his door being opened to reveal Jem in the threshold. His face broke into a wide smile and he strode from the door to next to the bed.

"It's about time!" he exclaimed. "A smooth way to get everyone riled up, Will. Everyone's been making themselves sick over you."

"Not _everyone,_" said Gabriel Lightwood, stepping out of the shadowy corridor into the room.

"Ah, now why'd you have to mar my happy recovery by dragging along this prat?" Will said, though he was smirking.

"A nice spot you've landed us in, Herondale," Gabriel scoffed. "You realize how long you've held us back for? Tessa's probably dead by now." Jem looked from Gabriel to Will, watching for the latter's reaction.

A small smile lit over his lips and Will leaned forward a bit. " 'Tessa', hm? On first name basis already, are we?" Will chuckled. "Even I didn't drop the formalities that soon. Perhaps..." Here Will stopped his speech and put one finger to his lips. He smiled again around his finger, a smile that was full mischief. "You don't happen to have a secret passion for Tessa, do you?" His voice was serious, his dark eyes solemn.

"What? You must be joking," Gabriel said.

Will shrugged. "Say what you will, Gabriel. I have seen your heart all too well—"

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'd suggest you keep your feelings to yourself," advised Will. "I'm not sure Tessa thinks very highly of you. I'm willing to put down money that she would reject you, young one."

Gabriel was the color of a ripe apple now. "You've got some nerve, Herondale, calling me young," Gabriel growled.

"Well, in terms of charming the female sex, I'd say you are several years behind me, at least in experience," Will reasoned, "wouldn't you agree, Jem?"

"I think I'll stay out of this," Jem decided wisely.

Gabriel turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Will pulled his arm across his chest, stretching. "What a relief," he muttered. He tugged on his other arm for a few seconds and let them both fall on the blankets, looking at his hands. After talking, Will suddenly felt tired. He leaned back on his pillows. "Jem."

"What is it?"

"Have you done anything else about Tessa?"

"I've been speaking with Gabriel and Charlotte every night," Jem said. "Henry and Jessamine sometimes appear and listen in. Jack, too."

"Why should he?"

"I think he's feeling guilty," Jem said. "If it wasn't for him, this would have never happened."

"What are talking about?" Will said sharply.

"When Charlotte let Jack begin to work here, he let it slip to one of Crawford's men that there was an Eidolon here, Tessa."

"Why the _hell _would he say that?"

"Jack didn't realize that they were still in league with Crawford," Jem explained. "They just happened to bump into each other in London a few days after Jack was given the job. They started talking about what they had been doing the last years and Jack was describing what the Institute was like. He was so ecstatic about having a job he forgot that they had both been allied Crawford when they were at Conley bridge. It didn't occur to him that they'd still be in communication."

"Jack told you this...when...?"

"A few days ago."

"Got a plan, then?"

"Not quite," Jem admitted. "I refrained from finalizing it until you could see it and add input about it."

"Let's hear it."

And Jem began in great detail how the next weeks were to pan out. He pulled out a pad and pen to jot down everything Will had to say or disagree with. They conversed for many hours before they settled with a procedure that satisfied both of them.

"Bare in mind that Gabriel, Charlotte, and Henry need to see this as well," Jem reminded his friend. "We've already come to the conclusion that they'll be coming with us."

Will groaned. "Must they? We can handle it by ourselves."

"It's already been worked out, no complaints."

Silence fell over the pair for a moment. "When can we actually start doing something," Will asked.

"As soon as you can walk around, I suppose," Jem said. "Don't strain yourself," he added as Will made to get up. "If you injure yourself again it'll just take longer."

They would have spent the rest of the day catching up, but the door burst open again, this time with a mob of people. Charlotte was back, along with Henry, Jessamine, Jack. A bob of white in the back told Will even Sophie had showed up. "What's this?" Will said with mock surprise. "Everyone wants to see my miraculous recovery, I see."

"Actually, I'm just here to bring you your food," Sophie said, pushing forward with a wooden eating tray.

"Good, I'm famished." Will reached for the tray and positioned the legs of the tray so it wasn't restricting his own leg movement. He drank the hot broth first, almost scalding his throat, but he ignored it and started on the side of pork.

It was carefree and untroubled. There was not mention of anything everyone in the room knew would happen soon. Will was almost able to forget everything that had happened. It was rare that he was at this much ease. Feeling full after finishing his meal, he let himself relax. Visitors slowly dropped off as the day grew late, citing hunger and drowsiness. At last it was only Charlotte in the room, but she stayed off only after her husband and Jem retired.

"Tessa will be fine," she told him.

"What makes you say that?" Will said suspiciously.

"Just…that look on your face," Charlotte said. She waited, and then went on, "I know you don't want us to come to the safe house, Will, but we are. You and Jem aren't the only ones who care about Tessa."

* * *

"_Ships that pass in the night and speak each other passing;_

_Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;_

_So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,_

_Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence."_

_- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn, The Theologian's Tale; Elizabeth_

* * *

Will lay awake up for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. The middle of the night was always a good time to think, Will thought. He had thought this for a long time now. Everything was so silent and dark. It was easy to collect emotions and sort them out when it felt like you were absolutely alone. Even though there were several other people in the Institute, Will considered himself to be to be in solitude once the clock struck midnight.

Even though he was supposed to be thinking and reflecting right now, he couldn't. Will listened to the clock ticking and watched the shadows for the slightest change. He tried to focus on the things that worried on, tried to work them out in a way so he could understand them more in the daytime.

It wasn't until the first rays of light touched the sky purple that he was able to fall asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Whee, lots of section breaks. Makes the story shorter, but other wise it would just be filler. Did anyone else see the teaser book trailer for Clockwork Prince? Tessiam FTW. I can't wait until December 6! **


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Did I surprise you? Here's an actual chapter, hooray. If I don't update again by 10/31, Happy Halloween! **

**Upload date: 10/22/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Will reached over for one of the books and opened it up at a random page. He started in the middle and began scanning down the rows, but unable to comprehend. The words unscrambled themselves and floated around the page. Letters were no more than meaningless characters, symbols from another world. Will stared at the page, forcing himself not to blink and focusing as hard as he could.

_I know what these are. Concentrate. Concentrate. CONCENTRATE!_

Will didn't understand why he couldn't make anything of the book. He let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his eyes. It was early enough in the morning that his room was lit up partially by the sun that was half-hidden behind the trees, but not early enough that the other inhabitants of the Institute were awake. As far as Will knew, he was the only one with his eyes open.

After a while he watched the sun slowly creep higher and higher up over the horizon, Will decided to give his book another attempt.

But it was no use. His eyes screamed in protest after a few seconds on the first assortment of letters. He shut them for a long time, lightly, enjoying the slight tingling that had developed under his eyelids.

Eventually the sun shined high in the gray sky, and Will heard movement outside the room. Sophie entered and gave him his breakfast tray and made to leave. "How miserable," Will lamented suddenly. "It's a dreadfully lonesome situation, having no one to eat breakfast with. Why don't you stay, Sophie?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather not. Jack likes me to eat with him. I can bring Mr. Branwell, if you'd want. He hasn't eaten yet; he's tinkering around with one of his inventions again." Sophie shut the door. Will lay back down against his pillows with an sour expression. Getting a good tease out of the maid would have lifted his spirits again.

At noon, Charlotte entered. "Brother Enoch has just seen me," she informed Will. "From what I could gather, he doesn't have anymore to offer you. The rate at how fast you fully recover is purely down to you from now on. There are a number of exercises that you can practice to regain strength and such, but a lot of the process is mental."

"Oh, is that so? Pray tell," Will said scathingly.

"The exercises tend to have drain energy faster, much faster. Any prolonged strenuous work from these will make you want to fall asleep, but if you do, you won't gain anything. You'll need to discipline yourself quite a bit to stay awake. It doesn't sound like much, but don't take this lightly."

"Right," Will said in an irritable tone, brooding, in his head, about his other troubles, but the thoughts just made him agitated and annoyed. "Thank you for the encouragement. I appreciate it."

There was a moment of silence while Will glared at the blankets. Then he heard a swish of skirts as Charlotte moved toward him. He did look to up address her in the face, but he glimpsed a splash of dark red with black trim from the hem of her sleeve. Will trained his eyes on that instead, following the swirls and patterns.

"It's that sort of attitude that's going to make this recovery take months," Charlotte said, almost fiercely. "If you want to be out bed, I'd consider how you let your emotions get the best of you far too often. They'll surely interfere with the recovery." She swept back to the door and left, leaving Will feeling slightly guilty he had snapped at her.

At two in the afternoon, Jem came in with a piece of paper. "What are you doing here?" Will asked.

"Charlotte's told Sophie who told me you're in a biting mood." Jem pulled a chair up to the bed and sat in it. "Chin up, Will. No good moping away." Jem switched his attention the paper in his hand. "These are the drills for you to start becoming your old self."

"And you're going to be my instructor?" Will sounded incredulous. "Don't mean to be surprised, mate, but I thought it was going to be Brother Enoch or someone else."

"Well, seeing that you hardly ever are in the same room as Brother Enoch (thus making it an awkward experience), and you haven't been acting very friendly to anyone else in the Institute, Charlotte rightly said I'd be the only one able to tolerate the task."

"Hmph."

"Let's start. First thing is the easiest, according to Brother Enoch. Movement of the legs." While Jem spoke, Will cast off his covers. "One leg at a time. Try to lift them up to here." Jem held his hand flat about a foot and a half above the sheets.

Will did so, easily.

Jem consulted his notes. "This height?" Two feet.

A little more effort, but still a manageable task.

"Here?" Two and a half.

After a minute of struggle, Will dropped his leg. "Too high," he muttered. He felt fatigued and was out of breath.

Jem lowered his hand three inches. This one Will managed to succeed with his right leg, but not with his left. "That's your limit," Jem announced. He went to the other side of the bed and supported the leg with his hands. "How's it feel?" he inquired. "Will?" Jem said when he heard nothing. To his disbelief, Will had fallen asleep, slumped over.

"Will! Wake up!" Jem looked around and grabbed a stool by the window. He set Will's leg on it and went over. "Will, open your eyes." Jem jabbed his friend's shoulder, who jolted awake at once.

"What happened?" he stammered.

"You fell asleep," Jem explained. He surveyed Will with a skeptical eye. "Didn't Charlotte tell you—?"

"Yes, yes, I know!" Will interrupted loudly, not wishing to be lectured for the second time in less than twelve hours. He positioned himself up right again and said to Jem, "Hand me that." He pointed to a basin on a table.

Jem brought the shallow dish to Will, who placed it on his lap. Cupping his hands together, he scooped some water up and splashed his face. For a second he sat there, letting his face drip. He rubbed his face dry on his sleeve and shook his head. "All right..." Then he noticed his leg. "What'd you do?"

"This is one of the procedures, keeping the legs resting at the height you weren't able to reach by yourself. Come to think of it, we might as well..." Jem hoisted Will's other leg onto the stool and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I'll leave you here. If you don't fidget and keep your legs up, you should be able to have more control by tonight. Don't fall asleep, remember. There's an old trumpet in the attic; I'm sure I could figure out how to blast a nice note to wake you up."

"Do you mind giving me some suggestions on how to entertain myself, then, for the next eight hours?"

Jem looked about the room. "Would you prefer a book? Or an abacus?" To his complete surprise, Will requested for an abacus, without a moment of thought or hesitation. Will wasn't much for mathematics; Jem had always figured literature was his forte.

But Will wasn't about to advertise his unfocused computation of letters to the world; he didn't want to cause more uproar than needed. If there was a way to solve it himself, he would do it.

"Er, right. I'll fetch Henry's right away." Jem left the room.

Will grabbed the nearest book and frantically flipped to a page.

No use. The words slipped down the paper like ink smearing. Slowly...slowly...

Slowly...

He blinked once. His eyes were half open, no longer looking at the page. They were starting to water, not to mention the tingling that had started up once more. They were hurting, too. He shut them, meaning to only rest for a second...

And suddenly he was slipping, down into darkness...Such darkness he had never known...one so long and forever...

"Will, what'd did I just tell you?" He heard Jem reenter, along with the slight rattling of the beads on the wooden frame. "No sleeping until tonight!"

"Oui, oui," Will said resignedly. He took the abacus and played with the beads.

"I think I'll just stay here," Jem said, "just in case."

For ten minutes, Jem watched as Will rearranged the abacus, pushing and pulling the different-colored beads together and apart. He declined Jem's offer for a set of problems and instead absentmindedly slid the beads back and forth on the racks. It didn't bore him. It was good to have something occupying his hands.

Finally Will put aside the abacus. He had mixed it up in as many different ways as he knew. "This is probably the most monotonous time in my life."

"Probably," Jem agreed serenely.

"Ungh..." Will slid down the sheets until he was flat and pinched his throbbing eyes. From the water basin he wrung out the piece of rag and folded it into thirds, laying it on his eyes. Will relaxed them; his eyelids cracked to allow drops of water cool his pupils.

Distantly, he heard Jem's echo-y voice, "Your eyes hurt, Will?"

"That would be correct," Will breathed.

He lay in quiet, and he heard Jem playing with his walking stick on the floor, tapping out rhythms while humming melodies.

"Would you stop that, please?" Will asked abruptly, and the noise ceased.

"Sorry," came Jem's apology.

Will sighed. "It's not you, James. Just that—" He pressed a hand on the towel— "I know I'm healed from the wound, but it still hurts. It doesn't feel like Brother Enoch did anything at all."

"Charlotte told me," Jem said. "She got all the information. It's supposed to feel that way; it won't pass until—well, until you can walk and do everything you could before everything happened."

There was a short pause. "Bloody hell," Will muttered.

"Why don't you read?" Jem asked. "You haven't picked up a single book since you've woken up."

Another pause while Will contemplated his reply. _Damn. Trust Jem to know exactly what I didn't want to tell him._

"Hand it over," Will said, casting aside the rag from his eyes. Jem gave him _A Tale of Two Cities_.

Will opened it with trepidation. He raised his eyes hesitantly to the top of the page. The blurred and falling letters met them, but Will was on a mission to act normal. After a while he flipped the page. He continued this, his impatience growing every line, a furious expression on his face. He hadn't even finished the chapter when he realized his hands were trembling.

Jem had noticed. "Will...you can't make out the letters, can you?" He spoke softly, almost sadly, as if he was the one who had lost the ability to do what he loved.

Will nodded slightly. "Guess it's out. What gave it away?"

Jem shrugged. "Just the way you've been acting..."

"And the fact that Charlotte told you?"

"Well…"

"At least I can stop faking I can," Will said dully. "Charlotte say anything about when I'll be able to again?"

"The visual interpretation of the letters won't come back until you can do everything else, since the brain is such a complex part of the body compared to muscles and bones," Jem explained," but not even that will happen unless you're re-taught how to recognize the letters, sentence patterns, grammar, and such."

There was a silence.

"You've got to be kidding." On Will's face was a look of disbelief and disgust.

Jem almost laughed. "Not at all. Will, you can't make anything of anything written. You can speak fine, but if I were to give you a transcript of this entire conversation we're having, you couldn't read it. That's the way it is. Whether you like it or not, you can't avoid it."

* * *

**A/N: Crap writing? Yes? No? I have a feeling the story's starting to get really boring, so PLEASE tell me in reviews: Do you want me to write about Will relearning how to walk and read and stuff, or skip back to where they're figuring out how to get Tessa? Will recovering won't just vanish, if you want the second choice (which I will probably go with myself, unless you convince me not to). There will be mentions of it, maybe a flashback or two.**

**Completely unrelated, but I've been listening to a lot of Regina Spektor lately (LOVE HER) and these lyrics from her song Samson: "You are my sweetest downfall…Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth…" I immediately thought how this pretty much describes Will and Tessa's relationship. Yeah...**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Okay, to keep the story from dragging, I've opted to skip Will's process of recovering. Sorry if you wanted it, but to be honest, I'm not really up to writing it. Maybe once this story's done, I'll put it in as an extra scene or something. **

**Upload date: 11/6/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Tessa barreled past the Pelmith and landed in the dirt. She spit dust out of her mouth and scuffed the heel of her boot in the ground in frustration. "Close," the Pelmith said. "I felt the wind that time."

"Spare me your encouragement," Tessa scoffed. "If I don't perfect this, Master will surely get rid of me. Save it until I hand in the body."

The Pelmith was surprised with Tessa's new attitude. It was more brutal and more macabre than his had been when he morphed into his new body. Of course, this was part of the transformation, but the Pelmith wasn't expecting her to be even more morbid than he had been. Countless times, Crawford had mentioned how ghastly his personality was, laughing at others' misery.

Tessa on the other hand…

Tessa reveled in the thought of others' pain. She wanted to rip them apart, annihilate them, destroy them completely. She gloated whenever news of a murder in downtown London was read from Crawford's newspaper, and openly stated she wished she could have been there to see the young woman's face before she was stabbed in the heart.

Part of Tessa's bloodthirstiness scared the Pelmith. For now, she was obedient, and besides her violent thoughts, was docile and didn't ever disobey either his or Crawford's orders. This was normal, since she had finished the metamorphosis several days ago. However, she was the first Eidolon to be transformed, and nobody knew what the end result would be. Was this the furthest it would go, or was she hiding an even more horrific side, one that could threaten himself and Crawford?

Caught off guard, the Pelmith winced as he felt a score of claws down his side. Tessa flipped over him agilely, across the grass and up a tree. Quick as a whip, she spun around and threw herself back at him, arms extended. The Pelmith dodged just in time, but was still grazed.

Tessa righted herself and grinned. "Yes!" she crowed. "I'm going to get you, just wait."

"If I may interrupt," Crawford said, stepping out from behind the house and strolling towards them, "that'll be it. No more training, Miss Gray. I see that you know exactly what you're doing. At least, enough to fulfill my wishes. We'll come inside now."

Tessa stood up straight. "Yes, Master."

Crawford took them to his library. "Miss Gray, I believe that you are now ready to proceed and receive the last, final chore I have for you," he said once they had arrived and were seated and comfortable. He got up and took a file from his desk. He leafed through the pages and took out a small photograph. Returning to Tessa, he held out it for her. She took it and looked at it.

"Remember that person," Crawford instructed her. He let Tessa study the picture for a minute and then took it back. "What does the woman look like?" he questioned.

"She has light hair and dark eyes," Tessa began immediately. "Her face is round, she has small hands and a thin waist. She is of average height and has very pale skin. She looks very youthful, perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five. A pretty woman."

Crawford had been nodding the entire time Tessa spoke. "Good, good. This woman is named Anna. She lives at this address." Crawford gave her another piece of paper. "Now…my last favor is this. I want you to find this woman and kill her. Don't come back until the job is done. And don't take all year doing it, either. I want this done quick. Understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Wait until midnight. Then go."

* * *

"_Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go."_

_Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Everyone was gathered into the library. Will had regained his mobility and most of his reading ability, but still had trouble at times. Nonetheless, he was glad to be able to participate in meetings again. Jem, Jessamine, and Gabriel had unearthed a considerable amount of new information, with the assistance of Jack.

"This is the basic structure of Crawford's brain," Jem said, drawing a circle on a piece of paper. He marked off a tiny portion of the picture and labeled it _Sanity_. The other, much larger part of the drawing, was titled _Insanity_. "Remember how Jack told us that Crawford really hated going to Conley Bridge? How it was his older sister that made him attend? The breakdown of Crawford's motivation is that. He just hated that school, and he hated his sister for forcing him into it."

"So he's going to kill her?" Will asked. "Just because he had to go to school? That's a bit extreme."

"We're not sure what he's going to do," Jessamine said, "but it has to do with her."

"Jack found a location in his things yesterday," Gabriel said. "Crawford must have given it to him when they were in school, when they were first planning this," he added at Will's suspicious look.

"We're going to find her and tell her to leave London," Jem said.

"When?"

"We settled on today," Jem said. "We got the information yesterday; honestly, we should have done it then. Each day we wait, the more time Crawford has to make a move. Whoever his sister is, she doesn't deserve death."

"We're going, then," Will said. "This instant?"

"This instant," Jem repeated. "It's already evening; it make take a while to find her. Charlotte and Henry have already given us permission."

The four went out and found that Jack was waiting by the carriage, with Xanthos and Balios already harnessed to it. When he was close enough, Will patted each horse on their velvety soft noses and rubbed their necks. Jack handed him the reins and he climbed into the driver's seat with Jem following. Jessamine and Gabriel stowed away under cover in the carriage.

"I hope you find her," Jack said, watching them prepare.

"As do I," Jem said. Will clicked his tongue and the horses started into a trot.

After an hour, Jem said, "Stop!"

Will pulled back on the reins, slowing the horses down. "What is it? Are we there?" Gabriel and Jessamine's heads appeared from the windows of the carriage, looking up the street.

Jem checked his notes. "Not yet. We're close, though. Go on, but slowly. I need to check the building numbers." Xanthos and Balios went on again. They turned down another street and Jem's head went from his paper to the house numbers. At the end of the road, he cleared his throat.

"This is the place."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. 985A Miller Street."

They all got down and looked at the building. "Stay here, Xanthos, Balios," Jem instructed their animals. At the door, they looked at each other, then nodded. Jem knocked once, twice, three times. They waited with apprehension.

Then they heard footsteps and the door opened. A woman with blonde hair and brown eyes was standing in front of them. She was quite pale, Will took note, almost as pale as Jem was when he was ill. It wasn't a sickly sort of paleness, though, just a little unnerving.

"Can I help you?" the woman said. She looked at them half hidden behind the door, which was open only a foot.

"Are you Anna Crawford?"

"I am."

"May we come in?" Jem spoke gently.

"Who are you?"

"Friends," Jem assure her, still in the gentle tone. He could tell that she knew Crawford was seeking revenge against her, and he didn't want to scare her. "I swear it, ma'am. You have to trust us." Behind him, Jessamine locked eyes with her and nodded slightly.

For some reason, that encouraged her. "All right," she relented, and let them in, taking them to the parlor. She invited them to sit, and rang for tea. A girl came in and set a tray down. Jem took his cup and sipped some of the drink.

"Shall we get to the point, then?"

Anna started as if she were about to speak, then caught herself.

Jem hesitated. "Yes?"

She lowered her eyes. "It is nothing. I'm sorry."

Jem looked at the others, confused. Will raised his eyebrows.

"Your brother, Alexander, is after you. We don't exactly know why, but he is. You need to flee. Take your valuables and leave the country. Crawford won't stop until he's gotten his revenge—and an ugly one at that."

"That's—that's ridiculous," Anna said, still not looking at any of them. "I know Alex has never liked me much, but he wouldn't go that far."

"Ma'am, he would. Whoever you remember your brother as isn't your brother anymore. He—he isn't right in the head. I don't know what happened between you two to make him act this way, but he won't forget it anytime soon."

Anna dipped her head and twisted her hands together in her lap. The Shadowhunters waited in silence for her answer.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I won't let my own family force me out of my home."

Will slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump violently. "Look, we're not going on about some petty little grudge your brother is bearing against you! He's serious. He _will _kill you. Do you want to die? His demons are on the way, possibly right now. If you don't leave soon, you're going to end up dead. Is that what you want? Is it?" He stared at Anna with his dark eyes, burning and intense.

"Will." He heard Jem's voice, low and placating.

Will sat back, crossing his arms and glaring at the tea.

Jem sighed. "Ma'am, my comrade—no matter what he may come across to you as—means well for you. And there is truth behind his words. I know it might seem as an act of cowardice, but if you want to live, you can't stay here any longer."

Anna stayed noiseless, still.

"If it is any consolation, you may not have to leave forever. Once we take care of your brother, you'll be able to come back," Jem said.

Anna considered this. Then for the first time, she raised her head completely and looked at them all full on. "Very well. However, if I am truly in danger, as you say I am, I—I do not wish to be alone during this. Have you any other people who might be able to come with me as I move into my new lodgings?"

Jem looked across the couch. "Jessamine?"

"I'll do it," the blonde-haired girl agreed.

"Excellent. I'm glad we've reached a consensus. Jessamine, follow Ms. Crawford and help her pack her belongings..."

Will stood suddenly, facing the door. He whipped out a seraph blade held it up in an offensive position.

Jem turned around, alarmed at the action. "Will? What is it?"

Will kept his eyes on the door, his reply short and terse.

"Something's out there."

* * *

**A/N: Unrelated-My cello teacher gave me a scale I need to play for an audition into a better orchestra at school. Let me tell you: IT'S IMPOSSIBLE. I don't get tenor clef. I'm just glad I also have a piano so I can figure out the notes. **


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Hope you're happy it's Veterans Day and I have the day off from school. I did all my homework already, so I can upload a new chapter. **

**Upload date: 11/11/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Jem took out his own weapon, as did Gabriel. Jessamine paused. "Jem?"

Jem bit his lip in annoyance. "You can't go, Jessamine. We might need you. Do you have a cellar?" he asked, addressing Anna.

"Yes."

"Show Jessamine the way down and stay there. Lock the door, if there is one. Try to hide somewhere in the room. Jessamine, you stay there too," Jem instructed.

"If I lock the door, how will you get out, then, if you need help?" Anna asked.

"I'll be able to, don't worry," Jessamine said. "Come on. Where is it?"

The two women left the room, leaving the boys to focus on the door. Jem could hear noise outside: light footsteps, and the horses whinnying.

Warning them.

ccrrUUSSHH!

What started as a creak suddenly exploded as the door was severed and fell to the ground, revealing one solitary figure. It was mostly in shadow, but it was very familiar.

Will turned around and looked at Jem for confirmation. Jem seemed to have picked up the same feeling. He nodded once. Will turned back and scowled. "Come back, have you? You must think you're something really big, just because you can take down a Shadowhunter."

"Not returning, young Nephilim. I never had a first visit," the demon said, and laughed. The noise of it made Will's heart jump. This wasn't the same demon that had attacked him and Jem at Conley Bridge. Now that he looked at it, Will saw this demon had a slighter frame.

More feminine…

Will felt Jem at his side. "Is that…?" Jem said slowly.

Will wrapped his grip around his blade tighter. "I think it is."

The demon had picked up the exchange and laughed again. "Who, little Nephilim? Who am I?"

"Tessa."

The word left Will's mouth before he could stop it. He had intended not to say anything, but now it was too late.

The demon was silent. "Tessa? Is that my name? Master only calls me Miss Gray."

"Master," Gabriel said. "Would that be Crawford?"

The demon who must have been Tessa looked at him straight on. Remembering her inquisitive gray eyes, Will felt a surge of anger as he stared into the yellow of her irises instead. He bent over just a bit, ready to move a moment's notice.

For a while, Tessa just surveyed them all. Then she said, "Where is she?"

_She must be talking about Crawford's sister,_ Will thought.

"You won't touch her," said another voice, jolting Will out of his mind. Jem had spoken, and although his voice was light, Will could detect certain defiance in his tone.

Tessa's face twisted. "What's going to keep me from it?" she snarled.

"We will," Jem replied. "That is, if it comes to that point." He raised his weapon a little higher. It was clear that Tessa wasn't going to be persuaded easily.

Tessa growled. As she did, Will noticed that her left foot had shifted position. It was such a miniscule movement Will wasn't sure that anyone had had seen it, but it didn't matter. Years of experience left Will with only one interpretation of the action: an attack was going to follow.

"Jem, Lightwood! Move!"

Jem had fought enough battles with Will to know that if Will said something, he shouldn't doubt it unless he wanted to get killed. Immediately, Jem leapt backward. At the same time, Tessa jumped forward, talons outstretched.

Will dodged, and grabbed Gabriel's collar, dragging him with him. "Get out of the way, you idiot!"

Tessa's attack crashed down on the table, splintering the wood and dishes. Will covered his face to block the splinters and china and looked up. _Three on one. This won't be too difficult. _

Will felt Gabriel struggling in his grasp. "Let go of me! I'm perfectly able to take care of myself!" Breaking away from Will's hold, Gabriel glared at him.

"Right then," Will said, feeling oddly furious. "Next time you're about to get sliced in half, I'll be sure to make myself a cup of tea. Carry on, would you?"

They separated as Tessa charged again. She bowled into furniture with a stupendous crashing sound. Will heard more glass breaking. The house must have been old, or the objects in the room, because everything seemed very delicate. Not much had happened so far, but the room was already in complete disarray. Will tried to see through the clutter, searching for his _parabatai_, who was nowhere to be seen.

"Jem!"

"I'm right here," he answered, appearing out of the debris. His clothes were coated with a layer of powder from the destruction and his face looked a little bruised, but he seemed all right. He made his way over to stand back-to-back with Will.

The dust settled, and Will scanned the room, searching for Tessa. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here," she answered. Will turned around and saw Tessa crouched in the ceiling corner, staring down at them. She threw himself at him.

_Clang! _Vibrations were sent up Will's arm as his blade connected with her claws. The very shock was painful; Will winced and pulled back, his arm trembling. _Don't make direct contact unless possible, _Will noted. A bow and arrow would have been ideal, but he didn't have one. He fingered the numerous blades that were attached to his belt, counting four spares. That meant he had five.

Tessa was quick. Before Will had time to recover, she sent another swipe at him. Stuck in close quarters, he had no choice but to continue blocking her with his seraph blade. The vibrations were getting duller, but his arms feeling heavy and dumb. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jem and Gabriel, advancing behind Tessa with their weapons aloft.

"No!" he shouted. "Throw it, throw it! Don't touch her—!" Will felt an enormous amount of pressure on his ribs and he flew backward, slamming into the wall. The air kicked out of him, he shook his head, dazed. He felt something at the corner of his mouth. He wiped his hand over it and it came back with red on the palm.

Fortunately, both Jem and Gabriel had listened this time. Jem stopped midway on his track and took a well-aimed throw, hitting Tessa square in the back. Will, feeling better, managed to get his way over just as Tessa let out a monstrous yell, not unlike the kind a bear might have made after being shot. The sound was unnerving to Will.

Tessa stumbled and swayed on her feet, but didn't seem undeterred. Changing course, she started towards Gabriel.

"Don't get closer!" he yelled. He threw his dagger towards her, catching her in a spot just below where her collarbone was. Tessa roared again, and clawed frantically at the knife. She pulled it out, and it clattered to the floor. With one powerful stomp, she crushed it under her foot.

"You puny Shadowhunters won't stop me," she said. "I have a job. I intend to finish it."

In his head, Will almost believed her. He was already worn out and he had hardly done anything. No serious injuries had been sustained yet, but it was only a matter of time. Tessa's speed was unlike anything he had ever faced before. You had to know where she was at all times if you didn't want to be at a disadvantage.

"What is this job?" Jem said, his voice shaky from being out of breath.

"That is none of your concern," Tessa said coldly. "Clear off, and you needn't be hurt or blamed."

"You make me sick," Will said suddenly. "Letting someone take control of you so easily? Allowing someone to do something as despicable as this? This isn't you, Tessa! You're better than this!"

Tessa studied him. "I care nothing about that," she declared. "I will find who I'm looking for. Someone like you won't stop me." She darted out of the mess of the room and headed for the staircase that led to the basement. Somehow, she knew where Anna and Jessamine were hiding.

"Jessamine! Get ready!" Will shouted as loudly as he could, hoping his voice would get to her. The three of them followed, but they had only gotten down half of the steps before the fighting began down below. Once at the bottom stair, Will stopped.

"Go, help her," Will said quietly.

"Aren't you—?" Jem asked as Gabriel entered the battle again.

"I need to think of a plan," Will said. "She won't bother me."

Jem nodded and left Will on the dark staircase. His mind started to buzz at once.

_We can't kill her. That's definitely not what Charlotte wants. We have no way to sedate her. What other ways can we subdue her? _Will glanced around in the gloom and felt with his hands, but couldn't find anything that would assist them right now. _Can't touch her, even with a weapon. I'll need something…_Will sat there, thinking. He ran over everything he could possibly dream of in his head, all of them mostly things that he knew would be useless but couldn't help considering anyway. Traps, snares, explosives…none of these would be effective without prior setup.

_I felt those shocks when I was using a weapon with a short blade and handle. What if I had a larger one? _But all of his weapons were more or less the same length; only a few inches difference separated them. Will listened to the engagement that was only one door away from him. From the sounds of it, not much progress was being made.

_Stop distracting yourself, Will. _

Will's head shot up. Cecily! She would know what to do! "Cecily, tell me how to do this!" He looked around, searching for her golden form but saw nothing.

_I'm not there, Will. Just in your head. _

"All right. What do I need to do?"

Cecily laughed, a sound, given the situation, Will was comforted by. _Oh, think just a little more. You're almost there. _

Will screwed up his eyes and pressed his hands against his head in frustration. "Damn it, Cecily, I don't have time for this! What is it?"

_Put it together. Something long, something that's flexible. You don't have it, but one of your friends does._

"Something long, and something that's flexible. That doesn't help me much."

_Well, I hope it comes to you soon. _

And just like that, she was gone. "Cecily! You—!" Will groaned. But there wasn't much he could do other than mull on the hints Cecily had given him.

Something long and flexible. He didn't have it, but Jem had it. Was is Jem? Or did she mean Gabriel? Probably not.

Will thought about the things Jem carried with him whenever fighting demons. The usual Shadowhunter essentials, but Will had all of those too. What things did Jem have him but Will didn't? He thought back to all the times they prepared for a fight, thinking of conversations that they had had.

"_Why do you have that with you?" Will looked at the object Jem was tucking into his pocket with bemusement. _

_ Jem shrugged. "You never know. What if I end up falling off a cliff, or something like that? If I can whip it out fast enough, all I need to do is throw it and it'll latch onto something that I can hang on to."_

Rope.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for a crappy action scene. I'm not much good at them. **

**Today's 11/11/11! Who made a wish? I did! Still have one more for tonight, though. Thanks and keep on reviewing, please!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Sorry, this is a really short one! (And sort of a bad one, too.) It would be longer, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting forever. **

**Upload date: 11/24/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"Jem, I've got it." Will said, entering the room again. "Jem—" Will stopped and looked around. "Where is she?"

"I'm not sure," Jem said. "I threw one of my blades into her stomach and she went into one of the other rooms. We're just going to let her come back to us."

"And Ms. Crawford? Jessmine?"

"Here!" Jessamine appeared from behind an overturned couch. Crawford's sister was behind her.

"Is it all right to leave?" Anna asked.

"No. We all need to stay together. If Tessa finds out you've gone, she's not going to have any reason to remain here and we'll probably lose our chance to get her back," Jem said. "Just lie low for now." To Will, he murmured, "Stay away from there, or she'll figure out where they're hidden. Try and focus on those instead." He nodded at a covered table and other places within the room that might have been a useful hiding spot.

"Got it. Now, give me that rope."

"What?" Jem frowned at Will.

"You have it, don't you?" Will said, knowing if it wasn't on Jem, he didn't have another plan.

"Yes…" Jem dug around in his pocket and pulled out a length of rope that was neatly corded up. Will unrolled it and estimated it to be about five and half feet tall. To cut it down…that would mean Will would need to get dangerously close to Tessa. But what other choice was there? He slashed the rope down the middle and wrapped a small section of one portion around his. He gave the other half to Jem. "Why—?" Jem started.

"Just follow my lead. And be ready."

For a while they all stood on guard, completely still. Will could hear his heart pounding in his chest, the blood coursing through his veins. His hands were trembling slightly; he clenched them so hard that it hurt. Pause in battle always was unnerving to Will. He didn't like feeling so vulnerable.

Soon, there came an echo-y rattle from above them. Moaning and groaning. Tessa was stumbling through the house, obviously disoriented from her injury. The five of them stayed silent as more thumping followed. Tessa was thudding her way down the stairs again. She had probably smelled them.

"She's coming," Gabriel softly.

Will moved toward the entry way and crouched next to it, making sure he was hidden at an angle where Tessa would not see him.

Tessa rounded the corner, her face distorted with fury. Will could see Jem's weapon lodged into her abdomen, but this only distracted him for a second before he jumped into action. With a flick of his wrist, the rope lashed out and coiled around Tessa's ankles. Will pulled the rope tight and it became taut. He grabbed his arm back, and Tessa fell to the ground, arms flailing about. "Jem! Get her hands" Will shouted.

Jem leapt forward, as did Gabriel and Jessamine. They struggled for a moment, trying to contain her. Will was busy tying the rope around Tessa's ankles secure, knotting it as many times as possible. Then he heard a _psst! _and looked up, feeling the thrashing stop. Tessa was knocked out, her head lolling. Jem finished binding her wrists up and stood up, looking shaken.

"What just happened there?" Will demanded. "How'd she—"

Gabriel held up a little bottle. "My father gave this to me. It makes anyone who gets a faceful go unconscious."

"Let's get her back to the Institute," Jessamine piped up. "Is it all right to touch her, do you think?"

"Probably not," Jem said. "Anna, do you think we could use that tablecloth?"

Will looked around. He had completely forgotten why they were there in the first place. Anna came out from behind the sofa. "Yes, please do."

Jem removed the tablecloth and wrapped it around Tessa's immobile body, leaving her face free to the air. The three boys picked her up and started to slowly climb back up the stairs, with the women following.

Will was surprised to see the darkness outside. He had lost track of time over the last few hours. Looking up, he could see a sliver of moon, the rest of it a shadow, a long, hazy cloud covering it up. The stars were faint, and it was sprinkling little drops of rain on the pavement.

They loaded Tessa into the carriage. "Anna, get in," Will said. "It'll be a tight fit, but you need to come with us."

She nodded slowly. Jessamine ducked her head and followed her into the carriage, then Gabriel, who pulled the door shut. Jem and Will climbed up onto the driver's seat and Will whistled to the horses. He took hold of the reins, driving the horses through the street, even though all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

**A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to American readers! I'm thankful to everyone who sticks with me, even when I update with a lousy chapter like this. I promise the next chapter will be longer and better.**

**PS: I recently finished The Hunger Games (yeah, I'm a bit late in joining the fandom) and it was so good. I love the movie trailer too. My favorite character by FAR is Finnick, he's so cool! I've spent the last week reading fanfics all about him . *squee* I love him! **


	29. Chapter 29

**Upload date: 12/17/11**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices**

* * *

Henry and Charlotte met them at the front of the Institute. Jem gave them a wan smile and said, "Don't worry. We've got her."

"Oh, thank God," Charlotte cried out. She and Henry began walking toward them.

Will leapt down from his seat and opened the carriage door. Jessamine got down by herself (with a glare at Will), then Gabriel and Anna. "Charlotte, Henry, this is Crawford's sister, Anna," Will introduced. "Anna, Charlotte, head of the London Institute, and her husband Henry."

"Very nice to meet you," Charlotte said.

"Thank you," Anna said quietly, not meeting their eyes. "I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Not trouble," Henry said. "It's what we do."

"Yes, it is," Charlotte agreed. "Now—where's Tessa?"

Will pushed the door of the carriage further a little more. Even with the darkness, it was easy to make out the white of the tablecloth. Charlotte blanched. "Is she dead?"

"Of course not," Will said. "We had to get her unconscious or she would have killed us."

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Crawford turned her into something," Jem explained. "A demon, I guess. You'll see."

He, Will, and Gabriel pulled on Tessa's legs and she slid out of the compartment and onto the ground. Charlotte gasped and reached forward.

"Don't," Jem warned. "She has some sort of reaction from touch; it shocks you." Charlotte nodded and withdrew her hand.

"Let's get her inside," Jem said. "We can put her in Henry's lab, if that's all right."

"Certainly," Henry said, looking almost excited at the prospect.

The boys hoisted Tessa up on their shoulders and maneuvered her down into Henry's workspace. They cleared a table and laid her down on it. Henry tied three leather belts around her, fastening her to the surface.

"Oi, Lightwood." Gabriel turned his head slightly to indicate he was listening.

"What."

"How long does that liquid last, you reckon?"

"It should be at least a good ten to twelve hours. It's extremely strong."

"You're sure?" This time it was Henry who asked.

Gabriel nodded.

"Let's leave her down here, then, for the time being," Henry decided. "I'm tired; I'd like to be fully awake before I start examining her."

No one raised any objections, as they all felt the same way.

Back in the foyer of the Institute, Charlotte said, "Anna, come with me. I'll find you a room and something warm to sleep in. I'll have our maid help you dress."

"Thank you, ma'am, that's very kind of you," Anna said. She followed Charlotte up the stairs, with Jessamine sleepily behind her.

Will yawned widely.

"Well, if that's all, then I'm going to turn in as well. 'Night, all." He clapped Jem on the shoulder and also went up the staircase.

In his room, he changed into his nightclothes. His hand reached for the lamp and he lay low under the blanket. It wasn't until the onset of dreams that he realized that he had forgotten to read a chapter of one of his books, like he always did.

* * *

"_Snowflakes are one of nature's most fragile things, but just look at what they can do when they stick together."_

_ – Vesta Kelly _

* * *

Henry wasn't at breakfast the next morning. He was too busy working on Tessa. It wasn't until they had started to clear the dishes that Henry came up, his face haggard. Charlotte set took the last piece of bread and set it on a spare plate. Henry sat down and took a bite.

"Well?" Will asked. "What'd you get?"

Henry rubbed his eyes, confused. "It's…strange. She hasn't woken up yet, but I've been looking at some of the demonic features she's grown. Other than the fact that she _has _them, there isn't anything out of the ordinary that I can see. We'll probably have to wait until she's awake before we can start getting some information that we can use."

"Right. We'll all go down once she wakes up," Charlotte decided.

The rest of the morning, the Institute was very tense. Henry returned to his lab immediately after he finished his quick snack. Will hid himself in the depths of the library, pacing back and forth between the shelves. He finally settled himself in one of the alcoves and looked out the window, his arm resting on his knee. The sky was hazy, almost dusty looking. Raindrops dotted the glass, streaming down the surface in tiny rivulets. Will watched the drops grow heavier and heavier until they finally succumbed to the weight and slide down.

"Will? Will?"

Will's eyes opened slowly. He must have fallen asleep.

"Will? Where are you?"

Someone was calling him. It was Jem.

"Will, Henry says Tessa's up."

_Tessa._

"William Herondale, get out here this instant or I'm leaving without you."

Tessa.

Will bolted upright. "Jem? I'm here!" He scrambled out of the recess in the wall and headed for the library door, where Jem was.

"Where were you?" Jem demanded.

Will shrugged. "Here. There. Everywhere."

Jem sighed. "You and your elusive answers."

Running a hand through his rumpled hair, Will said, "Let's just go, shall we?"

They could hear snarling and growling as they approached the lab. Charlotte and Henry were speaking in calm, smooth tones, apparently trying to relax her, but it clearly was proving futile so far. When they heard Will and Jem come in, they looked around.

"Will, Jem, there you are. Thank goodness. We're trying to talk to her, but I don't think she knows who we are," Charlotte said anxiously. "Perhaps if you two tried—"

"Say her name a lot," Henry suggested. "That might trigger some memories."

Together, Will and Jem drew nearer to the table Tessa was strapped down on. She kept on biting the air viciously, and she still had that same look in her eyes that Will so hated. When she remembered them, she snapped at them.

"Still have the attitude, I see," Will smirked.

"How about you introduce yourself," Jem muttered.

"Fine. Tessa, I'm Will Herondale. Seventeen years old and devilishly handsome, as you can see."

"All I see is an arrogant ass," Tessa spat back.

Will burst out laughing. "_That's _certainly refreshing, I must say, dear Tessa."

"That's enough," Charlotte said crossly. "Jem, you go. "

"I'm seventeen as well, Tessa," Jem began. "I play the violin. Actually, that's how I first met you; you walked into my room one night when I was practicing. What else...I suppose the fact that I'm dying a slow death is rather important," he added.

Tessa just growled again.

"This isn't working," Charlotte said. "Henry, do you have any other ideas?"

"I might..." he replied slowly. "Jem, get your violin. Will, a book. Something Tessa would have read before."

They returned a few minutes later. "Jem, start playing."

The others fell silent as the instrument began to sound, the delicate notes lingering in the air every time there was a pause in the music. Jem's bow drew across the string with expertise, with a gentle legato* tone.

Will watched Tessa carefully as Jem played. "Look—" he said suddenly, pointing. Everyone moved closer for a view.

Tessa's face was visibly more relaxed than it had been when they first saw her. It looked more peaceful, serene, and soft, almost like a child's.

"That's it!" Will said. "Jem, stop for a second."

At once, Tessa's featured became tense and on edge.

"Brilliant!" Henry cried. "Jem, keep on playing. Don't stop unless your arms are going to fall off."

Charlotte sighed. "I'm glad we've made some progress."

"Absolutely. Charlotte and Will, you can go upstairs now if you want. I'll call you back down if something happens."

"Right. I've got some papers to sort," Charlotte said. "Jem, do you want me to bring you some more music?"

"That would be nice."

Charlotte left, but instead of following her, Will stayed. "I'd rather watch."

For the next two hours, Will turned pages for Jem when he asked for it while Henry sat in a corner and scribbled down notes feverishly. At three o'clock, Jem finally lowered his arms. "I'm too tired to go on much longer," he said, and started rolling his shoulder.

Henry stood. "Nice work, Jem. You have a rest. Will, now it's your turn. Read from that book you've got. I figure if she hears a book she enjoyed, that'll work too. What'd you get?"

"Dickens." Will plopped down and opened to the first page. " '_There once lived a in sequestered part of the county of Devonshire, one Mr. Godfrey Nickleby, a worthy gentleman, who taking it into his head rather late in life that he must get married, and not being young enough or rich enough to aspire to the hand of a lady of fortune, had wedded an old flame out of mere attachment…_' "

Jem seated himself as well, and listened. Will was well into the book by the time Charlotte came back down. "It's time to eat," she told them.

"Ah, at last," Henry sighed happily. He set his pencil down and opened and closed his hand several times, stretching his fingers. "I think Tessa's coming along."

Charlotte leaned forward. "Oh, what a relief. We'll eat quickly, so we can minimize the amount of time we lose."

Henry and Jem got up and began to climb the stairs with Charlotte, but when Will didn't leave with them, Jem stopped.

"Will? Aren't you coming?"

"I'm not feeling hungry," Will said. "I'll stay down here. It's probably best if I keep on reading. If I want something, I'll get it myself."

Jem seemed reluctant, but relented. "All right."

Jem did return later after he had eaten his fill, as did Henry. The three sat in the lab for many more hours. Dimly, Will heard a clock striking eleven. Taking a pause, Will rubbed his eyes.

"You can stop if you'd like," Henry said. "I've got enough data now; I'm going up."

"Good night," Jem said. With a sidelong glance at his friend, he said, "Aren't you sleepy?"

"Not much," Will said, fighting off the urge to yawn. "Don't wait up for me, you can go. I'm almost done anyway."

"Will, you look like a dead man. I mean it. You probably got six hours last night; why don't you take a rest?"

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm fine," Will insisted mulishly. "Really," he added after seeing Jem's half-doubtful, half-exasperated expression. "I'll just finish this book, and then I'll go sleep. I swear."

"For your sake, I hope you do," Jem said. As he went up, he heard Will beginning to read again.

The minutes passed by. Twice more, Will heard the clock strike the hour. He got up, still reading, and lit a few more candles and pulled on a coat; it got cold in Henry's lab at night. He repositioned his seat so he could rest his arm on the table and lean his head on his hand while he read.

Will counted the pages to the end of the novel: less than a hundred pages, said a voice in his head. He plowed on, bur he was feeling more and more tired. No! Can't stop now...almost there...less than forty pages now...thirty...twenty...ten...

Nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one...

With a great effort, Will raised his eyes to the final page. A quick glance told him that it wasn't even a complete page, only a few paragraphs long...but Will already knew that...how many times had he read this book?

_Done._

Will let his arm fall to his side and closed his eyes.

When Jem came down the next morning with Henry, he found Will with his head forward, his thumb marking the last page in his book.

* * *

**A/N: I noticed I used a lot of semicolons in this chapter. **

**Ewww, blucky transitions! :P Blame Clockwork Prince, which I'm sure you've all finished now. Here are my thoughts, if you are interested (all spoilers are censored, though if you haven't read the book yet, beware. Some of the bleeps can be worked out pretty easily, if you squint)- **

**Will's secret was so heartbreaking, I almost cried when I was reading it, but I didn't because I was in orchestra (sneakily reading it behind my cello while my teacher went on). It satisfying to learn about, though. I was hoping so bad that *BLEEEP* would meet up with them and Tessa/Will would get to talk to her. When the book ended and THAT DID NOT HAPPEN, I was like: AAAAAAHHHHHHH! Cassie, you said that it wouldn't be a terrible cliffhanger! Now I have to wait a whole eleven months before I can read a conversation between Will and his *BLEEEP*. Can't wait to see how she and Tessa will get along. **

**Tessa, whyyyyy? (Referencing the pendant and such) When she was talking to Will about it, I wanted her so bad to take it back. T_T Felt so sorry for Will, he never gets a break, does he? Even the DSBS...**

**Charlotte and Henry were totally adorbs in the end. So happy for them. As for Nate...you still suck, especially when you manipulated *BLEEEEP*, who wasn't too horrible in CA. (I actually pitied her a little when she was getting tortured.)**

**Sophie and *BLEEEP*? Don't know how I like it, but I guess it's all right. Not who I wanted her with, but it's still cute. **

**Possibly my favorite new character other than *BLEEP* (see the paragraph about Will and his you know who. Yes, I know we hardly know anything about her, but I know I'll love her) was Scott Woolsey. He was hilarious. I think he ships Tessiam. **


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Well. Er...I'm in trouble, aren't I? Well, here it is, an new chapter. Sorry it's taken so long, but I don't know...had some trouble getting motivated to continue on. The end of Safe House will most likely be next chapter or the one after. Depends on how much cleaning up needs to be done. **

**Upload date: 2/21/12**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Infernal Devices. **

* * *

"That's—that's not possible," Tessa stammered a week later. Everyone was gathered around in the drawing room, and Charlotte had just finished recounting the last weeks to her. After Jem and Henry had returned to the lab and discovered that Tessa had taken back on her old features, the Institute had been nothing but violin and books, just to ensure that Tessa was absolutely back to her normal self.

Will sat back and put his feet up on the table, his hands behind his head. "Well, it is. You almost got me killed, you did." He frowned at Charlotte as she made to shove his shoes off the table. They landed on the carpet hard, dried pieces of mud dislodging from the soles and splitting apart on impact. Charlotte sighed.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry you almost died on my account," Tessa said. "If this is the current situation then, what are we going to do now? Go after Crawford?"

"We can't," Charlotte said sadly. "At least not right now. He seems to have vacated the building. Henry and I took a look inside a few days ago and found this letter…it was addressed to us."

"Let me see it," Tessa said. Charlotte handed it to her. _To the Shadowhunters _was scrawled at the top. She read the message rapidly, her blood becoming cold. She looked up at Charlotte, shocked.

"He…he gave us his location," Tessa realized in shock. Charlotte nodded. "Why would he do that? Does he want us to be able to find him?"

"There's always the possibility that it could be a trap," Charlotte said desperately, "but I don't think it is."

"What's the place he gave?" Jem asked urgently.

"Conley Bridge," Charlotte answered. "In a room under a trapdoor in the library."

Jack, standing so silently in the corner Tessa had forgotten he was present, suddenly started. "Can you please repeat that, Mrs. Branwell?"

"In a room under a trapdoor in the Conley Bridge library."

Jack sighed. "Grand. Just grand. That's where Crawford would tell us to meet up, when we went to school."

"Charlotte, just let Jem and I take care of it," Will said. "We can take him down and kill him."

"I would prefer to take him alive," Charlotte said dryly. "We need to find out what he was up to."

"We can do that, we can do that," Will pressed. "_Then _we'll kill the bastard, how about?"

"Just a second," Tessa broke in. "I want to be part of this. It's my fault this happened. Charlotte, may I?"

"Oh, Charlotte, don't say yes to her just because she's a girl and she'll throw a fit if she doesn't get her way," Will said at once, sounding annoyed. "Look—you come with us and you'll just get in the way. And besides, who's to say that Crawford make some other move when he sees you? All it will take is a distraction for Jem and I, and then you'll be done for." He glanced at Charlotte, his eyes hard.

She sighed. "Tessa, for once, I do agree with Will. We've only just recovered you, and I don't want our efforts to be lost. It's better if Crawford doesn't realize that you're back to yourself, as well. It's for the best, you understand?"

Disappointed, Tessa dropped her head. "Yes."

"Glad we have the settled," Will said. "Anything else? There's a new coat that I've had my eye on, and there are only a few left. I'd like to get to get to the shop before someone takes it."

"Oh, be off with you," Charlotte said, waving her hand. "Be back before dark; don't spend the whole day out there. Just remember that while you're frolicking through London, the rest of us will be having a jolly time here research."

Will stood and dusted himself. "Excellent. _Au revoir_, all."

Anna watched him leave. "He's not a cooperative one, is he?"

"No, he's not," Jem agreed, grinning. "Of course, that's what makes him so endearing to us."

"All right, enough chat," Charlotte said crossly. "It's time for work."

* * *

"_When it doubt, wear red."_

_- Bill Blass_

* * *

"You look quite striking," Jem noticed when Will came strolling in right after dinner. "Is that the one?"

"Yes." Will turned around with his arms out so they could admire it. It was a black frock coat with black buttons and a pale gold lining along the inside collar. Tessa didn't think it any different from the coats he usually wore, but there must have been something charming about it to catch Will's attention. She noted, almost unconsciously, so much darkness just made his beautiful blue eyes stand out even more to her than they already did.

"Will, if you are agreeable, you and Jem will be moving in to find Crawford tomorrow. "

"Such a pleasant change," Will said lazily, heading right back out the door he had just strolled through. "I love jumping into the action instead of waiting for weeks."

* * *

"_Adventure is not outside man; it is within."_

_- George Eliot_

* * *

The next day dawned with gray clouds. A fine mist shrouded the tops of the tallest buildings, and raindrops from a shower during the night clung to the leaves of trees. Tessa stood on the steps of the Institute wrapped in her cloak while Will and Jem prepared to leave.

"Remember, no killings," Charlotte told them, speaking mostly to Will. "We want him alive."

"Yes, yes," Will said. "We'll be sure to bring him back whole and healthy."

"Get along, then," Charlotte said, nodding to them. Will whistled to the horses and they clopped off.

They drove quickly. Once reaching a street or two away from the school, they left the horses and proceeded on foot. They outfitted themselves with glamours within a darkened alley, scaled the fence surrounding the building, and continued onward. As they passed through the hallways, Will could see students bent over the desks, all of them scribbling notes furiously while the professor lectured.

The two boys made their way to the library, which was empty, save for a few lone students studying.

"Charlotte said the trapdoor was near the third bookcase from the west wall," Jem murmured.

They crept over and knelt down. Will drew his hand over the carpet, feeling for any disruption in the floor. "Do you see anything?" he asked Jem.

"Not sure…" his parabatai replied. "I think there may be something here, but I can't see it clearly. Can you feel it?"

Will reached over and touched the spot Jem was motioning to. There was a slight indent, maybe only a centimeter or two below level. Will nodded. Together, they determined the perimeter of the door and the pulled upward.

Nothing happened.

"Must go down," Will deduced. They pressed down, and the square lowered. Will dropped through, then Jem, who pushed the door back to its original position.

"Well that was a poor attempt at trying to confuse someone," Will said, glad he could now speak normally. "There are only so many ways a door can be opened." He reached into his pocket for his witchlight, the brightness from it splitting into different rays between his fingers.

They were going down a long, sloping tunnel. It was just tall enough for the boys to walk down easily. Will could feel the ceiling brushing up against his hair. The walls were distinctly earthy, making Will feel like he was in a rabbit hole.

"Funny, this," he said, breaking silence.

"What is?" came Jem's voice from behind.

"Do you suppose that Crawford went to the trouble of digging this whole passageway or was it here when the school was built?"

"Mm, it could have already been here," Jem reasoned, "but I don't think so. Look at the walls. They're all rough, and not very evenly scraped down. I bet Crawford did it himself. Must have taken him months."

The tunnel had flattened out and opened into a large cavern, so large the entire Institute could have fit inside of it. Torches were perching on the walls, lighting the room dimly.

"Is there anyone here?" Will called out.

There was no answer. The two advanced further into the room, leaving the entrance and walking around. Suddenly Jem gasped.

"Will—Will get over here. Look at this."

"What is it?" Will said urgently, running over to where Jem was.

"Well." Will stood next to Jem, looking at what Jem was looking at. "That's unfortunate."

The body of Crawford at their feet. A knife driven up to the hilt was through the very center of his heart, blood staining his chest and creating a puddle under him. More of it was at his mouth and hands (both of which were gripping the handle of the knife), and his eyes were glassy and staring upward, not seeing.

Jem, despite the situation, let out a strangled laugh. "Nothing shocks you, does it?"

Taking care not to get blood on his shoes, Will touched Crawford's white face. It was cold as ice. Moving his hands to the neck, Will felt for a pulse at the neck and then near the wrist. He could feel nothing.

"Definitely dead?" Jem asked.

"Definitely," Will confirmed, emotionless.

"What do we do?"

"Oh, God damn it," Will said in frustration. "Why'd the bastard kill himself?"

"Can we at least try to figure that out on the other side?" Jem said. "The smell is making me nauseous."


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Okay, this is the last chapter for this story! If you've been reading these author's notes, this won't come as a surprise to you. Anyway, I think a lot of you won't like this at all, but that's the way it is...Hope it's not too abrupt. Thank you so much to all my readers and especially to the reviewers, particularly the ones who kept on reviewing even after I didn't update for two months; you know who you are!**

**Upload date: 3/11/12**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

"Why, why, why?" Will paced back and forth. "What purpose would killing himself serve him?"

"Can we be sure that he did kill himself?" Jem said. "We don't know what happened exactly. Someone else may have ambushed him. I doubt it, but…"

"I don't think so," Will said. "As far as we know, we're the only enemies of Crawford who know about this place right here, and all of his other affiliates don't want to kill him."

"It could have been his…I don't know how to phrase it…" Jem said hesitantly. "A last final act of defiance. He wasn't going to be killed by anyone but himself."

After a few moments of deliberation, Will ran back over to the body and rolled it over. The knife tip was just visible through Crawford's back. Will pulled it out and looked it over carefully. It was just a normal knife with no significant markings on it, so he laid it down. Next were the pockets. There was a slight bump in them, but it was only a few blank crumpled pieces of paper. Will tossed them aside and yanked the heavy overcoat Crawford wore off, tossing it down once more with a noise of annoyance when there was nothing to be found.

"Well, I don't think there's anything else down here," Jem said. "Let's get Crawford and go back."

"I don't suppose you have a stretcher of some sort, do you?" Will inquired casually.

"I'm afraid not."

Will sighed. "Let's get this over with then. I don't want his stinking blood on me any longer than it has to be." Picking Crawford up by the neck, and Jem supporting the feet, they began shuffling themselves back towards the tunnel.

"Will." Halfway there, Jem stopped suddenly. "Do you hear that?"

Will cocked his head. A fluttering noise was coming from the mouth of the tunnel. Slowly, they lowered Crawford's body and stood alert, watching the entrance.

A tiny thrush flapped into the cave, settling down right in front of them. It kept moving its head from side to side, the way birds do, with large, intelligent eyes sparkling at them. It seemed harmless, but the boys were smart enough to see that it wasn't just an ordinary bird. The moment that Jem shifted his hand to reach for a seraph blade, it gave a loud _caw, _so loud it made the Will start. It was quite the opposite sound that he had ever heard a thrush make.

The bird's feathers were getting ruffled now, but the bird itself was also growing in size, swelling until it was the size of a horse. Jem backed up, so he was in line with Will. "I'll distract it," Will murmured, though he wasn't sure why. "Think you can take the head?"

"Of course," Jem said. "Just don't complain if I lop it off right in front of you." He crept away and hid in the shadows.

Will whipped out a knife and threw it. Hitting the bird in the chest, it let out a shriek and stumbled backward. Will frowned; he thought he saw a spark of yellow when it hit. The bird shook its head and flapped its wings, rising into the air. "Oi!" Will waved another one of his blades wildly. "Over here! I'm wide open!" He spread his arms and grinned. The bird let out another squawk and tucked its wings. Faster than Will was expecting, it sped right toward him like a bullet. Will crouched low, narrowing his line of vision until he was almost cross-eyed. When the sharp beak was feet from his nose, Will dove to the side, rolling several times until he slowed enough to push himself up out of the earth.

The bird meanwhile, had gotten half of its beak imbedded in the dirt wall. It was struggling to free itself, but without much success. Jem sprinted up the tail of the bird, all the way up to the neck. With a blaze of light, his knife elongated until it was as big as a sword. In one mighty stroke, Jem brought the blade down as hard as he could on, severing the head from the body in one clean movement.

There was a flash and loud bang. The cacophony was as loud as Will had ever heard it; he was sure the noise would alert the entire island of Great Britain something strange was happening. Will ducked his head and raised his arms to shield his face from the dust and dirt that erupted not inches where Jem stood. He tried to think, but it was impossible to focus on anything through the din. Pieces of hard earth were raining down on him and loose soil was flying through the air. As soon as the clamor had quieted, Will raised himself up.

"Jem?" he shouted.

A muffled reply answered him. "I'm all right! Over here!"

Will ran over. Jem was finishing digging himself out. "I knew something was going to happen, the moment I cut if off," he panted. "I was lucky I was able to get out of the way fast enough." His voice was hoarse, but seemed unhurt otherwise.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Jem said. "There must have been something implanted in the neck that would explode when it was touched. Probably there were some all over the body."

Will nodded in agreement, remembering the glint he had seen when first attacking it.

"I'm sure this entire place must have been a trap for us," Jem went on. "Crawford made that monster, had it hide somewhere and then killed himself to make sure we deliberated a little here."

"He obviously knows very little of Shadowhunters," Will scoffed. "It'll take more then some overgrown bird to defeat us. Come on. We need to tell Charlotte what's happened."

Once again, they hoisted Crawford up between them and began to make their way through the tunnel. Will's senses were on full alert; he didn't want any more surprises for today.

At the end of the tunnel, Jem dropped Crawford's feet and poked the trapdoor up. He looked around, then pushed it up all the way. He pulled himself up, and then reached down to grab Crawford again. He pulled the body up, with Will following after him, kicking the door shut once more.

* * *

_"As far as I'm concerned, I prefer silent vice to ostentatious virtue."_

_- Albert Einstein_

* * *

"Charlotte!" Will strode into the Institute, looking about. "Charlotte, you've got to see something!" He and Jem put Crawford on the body and ran into Charlotte's study, where she was hunched over some paperwork and writing. She looked up.

"What is it?"

The boys led her to the foyer, where Crawford's body lay. Charlotte gasped and put her hands to her mouth. Then she rounded on Will. "I thought I told you—"

"He was already dead," Will interrupted.

"He was," Jem agreed.

"What? Was there anyone else there when you arrived?"

"No," Jem said. "We think he killed himself."

"What's going on?"

Tessa and Henry had just appeared, looking baffled.

"Will, Jem, what happened?" Henry asked blankly.

"If I knew, I'd tell you," Will said, sitting down. "This man, though, I can tell you this." Silence fell over the entrance hall as they waited for Will to speak:

"He was a real prat."

"Not helpful, Will," Jem said cheerfully. "That was an established fact."

"All right, then—" Charlotte brushed her hands briskly on her dark blue dress. "Let's get him down to your lab, Henry. Perhaps an autopsy is in order. We'll be able to find out more then."

Though all that could be found out that was new to what Will and Jem already knew was that he had been dead for only a day, and that other than the fact that he had died of a rather violent stabbing, his death wasn't any different than any other deaths anyone had ever heard of. Henry relayed all this information to everyone in the library at around ten o'clock.

"All's well that ends well, then," Charlotte sighed. "I think it's all time we turned in for the night."

Will, who was leaning with his head against his palm, yawned. "An excellent idea, Charlotte." They all got up and started towards the stairs. Jem took the candle with him as he left.

fin

* * *

**A/N: And that's it! I hope you liked it (argh, used that in the other note...)! I probably won't be writing any more ID fanfiction until CP2 comes out; I need a break from them! I will be back, though. I've got two stories already in the baby stages for Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, so look for those in the coming weeks! If you like stories that focus on minor characters, then you might be interested! Once again, thanks for reading and reviewing! **


End file.
